Take Me to Church
by R.L. Woodson
Summary: AU. Castiel is going through the motions- work at his family's company, ignore their phone calls, and avoid his past. The monotony is broken one Tuesday by a man with beautiful green eyes who appears in his office with an envelope marked: "Hand Deliver". businessman!Castiel
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Take Me to Church

 **Rated:** M

 **Summary:** AU. Castiel is going through the motions- work at his family's company, ignore their phone calls, and avoid his past. The monotony is broken one Tuesday by a man with beautiful green eyes who appears in his office with an envelope marked: "Hand Deliver". businessman!Castiel

 **A/N:** So this is going to be broken up very strangely. About 20,000 words of this was written as a one-shot, but since ffnet won't let me upload chapters over 5,000 words, I'm posting it in chunks. After the 20,000th word hits, I'm purposely writing in chapters. What this means for you readers is that the flow is going to be weird. Like really weird. I'm very close to being done with this already. I was hoping to be done before I posted, but I just couldn't resist.

This story includes mentions of past physical and sexual abuse and feelings of inadequacy. It also includes awesome sex, so there you go.

Please enjoy! I hope to get everything up for you all soon!

 **Chapter One**

The coffee was too hot and his office was too cold.

Castiel was too tired for this shit.

Yesterday Anna had called and not-so-subtly hinted about going to church again. She hadn't brought up that particular subject in a while, and Castiel hadn't reacted favorably to it. He ended up having another nightmare, and got a grand total of three hours of sleep. Then, upon entering his office at the ass-crack of dawn, he read his to-do list of the day and almost went back home. Sometimes he didn't like being a CEO.

Rebecca was a sweet girl, and a pretty decent secretary, but she just didn't know how Castiel worked. Hannah, his old secretary, knew exactly what she was doing. When Zachariah called to bitch at Castiel, she'd let him know that Castiel was very busy and would call him back when he had time, even if the Novak was just reading. Rebecca patched him through with no warning.

Zachariah was one thing he had to deal with today. Zachariah Adler was one of the Novak & Sons Architecture Supply Company's best lawyers. He was also a gigantic asshole who played dirty, which Castiel did not tolerate.

Castiel also had a meeting with a new investor in the company, something to film in the HR department, he didn't know what, and he had to approve the design base for the next architecture project going on. On top of that, there was a young man in the mail room who was hot as the fucking sun, and it reminded Castiel of how long it had been since he had gotten laid. The length of time was higher than he cared to admit.

Castiel sipped his coffee and cursed. It was still scalding.

Later that day, Castiel tapped his foot impatiently in the elevator. There was some new song playing, and it was frustratingly catchy. Lots of "amen"s. He shook his head at that.

The new investor was an even bigger dick than Zachariah. His name was Azazel. He was arrogant and unreasonable, and Castiel had to keep a smile through the entire conversation.

The elevator dinged and Castiel stepped out, striding purposefully to his office. He was going to sit down, get his reports done, and maybe leave a little early. When was the last time he took a bath? That sounded amazing right now. A hot bath, wine... no, probably whiskey. Yes, whiskey was-

Castiel stopped dead in his open doorway. That man from the mail room was standing in the corner of the office, inspecting Castiel's bookshelf with unmasked curiosity. He was Castiel's height, but probably several years younger. He wore a crisp white dress shirt under a green sweater, the sleeves of both pushed up to his elbows. The button at his throat was undone.

The breath rushed quickly out of Castiel's lungs, and the man's face snapped towards him. Jesus, those eyes were green. Like pine trees in the sun.

"Shit," the man said, then his eyes widened. "Uh, I mean sorry, sorry Mr. Novak, I wasn't-" he stopped and straightened up. A light pink tinted his cheeks, but he kept his eyes up.

Castiel found himself walking forward, though his brain hadn't told his legs to move. As he moved forward, the young man's face became clearer. His eyes were more than just pine- there were flecks of emerald and gold and hunter green. They were mesmerizing. When he blinked, Castiel could see long, thick lashes that brushed his prominent cheekbones.

Castiel stopped walking. He knew he was staring, but when the man's lips parted almost imperceptibly, he didn't even try stopping himself. He could only describe them as _sinful_. Full and plush, with an arched cupid's bow and a natural pout. They were just a little bit chapped, and Castiel wondered what they would look like red and kiss-swollen.

"I just came to deliver mail," he mumbled nervously.

Castiel tilted his head. "That is the duty of my secretary," he said as evenly as he could. Damn, he was so much more beautiful up close.

The man swallowed and Castiel watched the bob of his adam's apple. "It says 'Important: Hand Deliver' on it." He held out the letter, and Castiel recognized the handwriting immediately.

It was Gabriel's.

With great effort, Castiel walked back to his desk and sat. Every step farther from this man seemed difficult, like he had his own gravity. Maybe he really was the sun.

His paper cutter sliced cleanly through the envelope paper, and a single sheet fluttered out.

 _Cassie!_

 _Great plan, huh? His name is Dean Winchester, and he's going to be hand delivering all your super secret mail from me for the next ever until you two get together. You've been staring at him ever since he got here and I know you want him, bad. I also know you're making a face now, stop making that face. Dean is watching._

Castiel smoothed out his features, purposefully staring at his brother's words and not Dean.

 _I know you can't flirt worth shit, so try smiling. Say thank you. Use his name. Do something because your sexual frustration is starting to affect me now._

 _Chop chop, bro._

 _Your favorite sibling,_

 _Gabe_

Castiel folded the paper carefully and slid it back into the envelope. When he had fully prepared himself, he looked back up at Dean. The Winchester stood in front of his desk, shifting from foot to foot. Castiel realized that he was waiting to be dismissed. How old was he? Twenty? Twenty-one? Castiel was thirty-five. Was that too large a gap?

 _No, stop it,_ he chided himself. He had interacted with Dean for three minutes, and he was wondering if they could be together. For all he knew, Dean was straight and taken. And even if he wasn't, Castiel wouldn't take his youth away. Still, he could be polite and not fucking stare like he was right that minute.

"You don't need to deliver a reply," Castiel said. He should probably say more, but he was still fixated on Dean's attentive expression.

Dean nodded absently, then clasped his hands in front of him. "Okay, so I'll just go then..."

He turned to leave and was almost to the doorframe before Castiel remembered. "Dean," he said, and the Winchester turned, surprised. "Thank you."

A little embarrassed smile crossed Dean's face. "Yeah, sure," he muttered before hurrying out the door.

Castiel sat back in his chair for a moment, the click of the closed door the only sound in the room.

Dean Winchester.

He was gorgeous. Castiel had never seen anyone more beautiful. He seemed to glow with youthful vitality, and Castiel knew what his brain was begging him to suppress. He wanted to know Dean. He wanted to know what his life goals were, what his favorite song was, how many brothers and sisters he had, and what he liked to eat for breakfast. He also wanted to know what Dean looked like at his most vulnerable state- what noises he made when he came undone, how his muscles rippled when they moved, what his grip would feel like in the throes of passion...

Castiel's head fell into his hands. Where had this come from? Gabriel was right, he was sexually frustrated, but he couldn't go seeking nameless company. Dean had just ruined him for that with only a few sentences.

Jesus, he was wrecked. Damn Gabriel.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Castiel almost forgot about Dean in the rush of work, and in the evening, Michael called. Castiel let it go to voicemail.

That's how he justified his current position, laying out in his enormous bathtub with one hand wrapped around his painful member. He'd been stressed and sexually frustrated, as Gabe pointed out, so he was going to take care of himself. That was his right.

The only problem was Dean. He kept appearing in Castiel's mind, no matter how hard he tried to stave off the images. Every time he thought of those plush parted lips, his length twitched violently in his grasp.

He could almost see it now, Dean on his knees, green eyes looking up at him innocently. His mouth looked sinful, but the image filled Castiel with a sense of awe. Would Dean's tongue be white-hot against him? Would he hum around Castiel's member, or better yet, moan of his own pleasure? Would his lips come away spit-slicked and red from pressure?

The thoughts built in the Novak's head until he shouted his release, alone in his house.

He went to bed, more sated than he'd felt in a long time. He also felt more guilty than he had in a long time, like he'd defiled holy ground or something. Regardless, his sleep was restful that night.

o o o

The next day, the same occurrence happened.

Castiel sat in his office going over the month's business model modifications, having skipped lunch entirely, when Rebecca rang. "Yes?" Castiel grunted, flipping pages.

"You have mail, sir. It's supposed to be hand delivered."

Castiel's pulse skyrocketed and he sat up in his chair. "Send him in." He hoped his voice was even.

There was a pause, then Dean Winchester cracked open the door. "Hey, Mr. Novak," he said in that smooth voice of his. "I have your mail again."

"Come in, Dean." Was it his imagination, or did the Winchester shiver a bit? Dean approached, and the sight of his face up close again gave Castiel vivid flashbacks to his daydreams from the previous evening.

 _Calm the fuck down,_ he thought at his wakening member.

"Here ya go," he said, a bit of twang shining through his words.

Castiel took his mail, brushing his fingers lightly against Dean's maybe on purpose. All other mail was tossed aside save Gabriel's.

 _Cassie,_

 _I have some real news for you this time- Dad and Mike are thinking about coming down next weekend, so I've taken the liberty of getting you and some staff tickets to that convention you don't want to go to in Baltimore. I'll make sure they're gone by that Sunday night._

Bless Gabriel. He was the only brother who understood.

 _I hope you're enjoying Dean's fine ass. He was definitely excited to see you again today. Spring in his step and everything. He looks like a lady-killer, but my gaydar is off the charts. Go get 'im._

 _Your Ever-Loving Brother,_

 _Gabe_

Castiel folded the sheet of paper and slipped it back in the envelope, setting it in the drawer next to the one from yesterday.

Dean was looking at him again, waiting for instructions. "No reply is needed," he found himself saying. Dean pressed his lips together and turned to leave, but Castiel needed another minute with him. "Dean," he said calmly.

The green-eyed man turned around.

"How old are you?" It was a strange question to ask out-of-the-blue, but he needed to know.

Dean looked surprised again. "Uh, I'll be twenty-four next month."

It took considerable effort not to groan aloud. He was over ten years younger than Castiel, and he found that fact pervertedly exciting. He almost missed Dean's returned question. "How old are you?"

Castiel tilted his head. It wasn't a question usually directed at an employer in professional conversation, but Castiel was far from offended. "Thirty-five." He watched for a reaction.

Dean gave him a little smile, like he was trying to repress it. He nodded, and turned to leave.

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel repeated from yesterday, and Dean's smile widened.

"No problem."

 **A/N:** So what do we think so far? Reviews are my lifeblood!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** So chapter one and this chapter here were originally together, but uploading sucks. That is why I'm posting this so soon! You can see why I wanted this to be in the first chapter once you read it.

In this episode: Dean becomes more than just a pretty face.

 **Chapter Two**

The next several days were much the same. Castiel would hurry to return from lunch, so he'd be there when Dean came with mail. Each time, it would be a letter from Gabriel detailing what he ate for dinner last night or how he wants to redecorate his kitchen or something distinctly unimportant, with horribly drawn doodles in the margins. Nothing hand-delivery worthy.

Every day, he learned more and more about Dean. He'd just ask one simple question, and answer one in return.

 _Thursday_

"Where did you go to college?" Castiel asked quietly. Fairly professional question, right?

Dean looked down nervously. "Just Lawrence Community College, nothing special." Castiel's face remained smooth, and Dean looked up again. "You?"

"Amherst, in Massachusetts," Castiel nodded. Small school, but prestigious. Then, "Masters at Dartmouth."

Dean whistled low. "So you're a genius," he smiled.

"Not always," Castiel allowed the corners of his mouth to twitch upwards. "Thank you, Dean."

 _Friday_

"Do you have any siblings?"

Dean's smile was bigger than Castiel had ever seen. "Oh yeah, I have a baby brother, Sam. He's real smart, like you. Goes to Stanford and everything. He's freakishly tall, which is why some people call him a moose, but I can still take 'im." His hands began to gesture. "He's a little quiet sometimes, but I swear, the kid's like a people magnet. He could charm a cat into water."

Dean went on about his brother, and a warm feeling spread through Castiel's chest. The love in his eyes was evident, and Gabe's letter was left on the table, forgotten.

Dean's eyes darted to the clock. "Oh shit, I mean sorry, I didn't know I was rambling. I'll just go," Dean looked flustered, and Castiel couldn't hold back a smile.

"I have time," he said calmly, gesturing for Dean to come back. "I enjoy hearing about your brother."

"Well," Dean put his hands on his slim hips, just so he could do something with them. "Your turn."

"I have three brothers and one sister," Castiel said. It was a big family, no denying that.

"Wow," Dean breathed. "What's that like?"

Castiel thought for a minute. "There's never a dull moment," he settled on. "Do you know Gabriel Novak? The head of Human Relations?" Dean nodded. "He's my elder brother by four years."

Dean pressed his lips together, as if suppressing a grin. Castiel took the bait. "He's quite a character, isn't he?"

A laugh bubbled up from Dean's throat, and it was like the sound of bells. "You could say that! How does he keep that big bowl of candy in his office full? He offers me a lollipop every time I go in there."

"To say he has a sweet tooth is an understatement," Castiel agreed. "And it's not a bowl, it's a small fish tank."

Dean shook his head. "That's wild."

"As I said," Castiel quirked an eyebrow. "Never a dull moment."

When Dean's chuckling stopped, he looked up at Castiel, who was already staring. He had never seen Dean so relaxed. He had never heard Dean laugh. His eyes were green and bright, and the tiny laugh lines on his skin smoothed out until they were just looking at each other.

In an ideal circumstance, that would be the moment that Castiel would rise from his chair and grasp Dean's shirt to haul him over the table and claim his lips. Dean seemed to hear that internal statement, because his tongue darted out to wet said lips.

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel murmured, embarrassingly lower than usual, and he saw Dean distinctly shiver at this.

"No problem," Dean cleared his throat and hurried out of Castiel's office.

 _Saturday_

Castiel was bored as fuck. He was working from home and had things to do, but he could barely work up the motivation to get something done. He instead thought of Dean, and how much he missed seeing him every day, even if it he had only really known him a week. Less than a week.

Friday's two minute talk was eye-opening, to say the least. Dean was no longer just the fuckhot young man from the mail room, he was now a loving brother, which made him even more beautiful.

It hadn't even been a week and he was starting to fear how intense his thoughts were becoming. He knew that he should be sending Dean away without their little questions. He shouldn't be getting to know Dean as he brought him Gabriel's stupid mail. He should have a talk with Gabriel.

"I wanted to talk to you, not go to a bar," Castiel grumbled that evening as his brother pushed him through the doors to the Roadhouse.

"We can talk while we drink, bro," Gabriel slid onto a bar seat and Castiel reluctantly followed.

"What can I get you two?" a petite blonde waitress smiled at them genuinely.

"I'd like a Mudslide, Madam," Gabriel slung his arm around Castiel. "And for the baby bro-"

"Just a whiskey, please," he asked her.

"A whiskey and a heart attack in a cup, coming up," the bartender grinned, and Castiel nodded at her.

"I need to talk to you about your letters," Castiel began quietly, and a huge smirk broke out on his brother's face.

"You want to talk about _Dean_ ," Gabe sang. "Have you boned him yet?"

Castiel looked around with wide eyes. "No Gabriel, Jesus. Not so loud."

Gabriel pouted. "Why the hell not? I sent him to you wrapped in a bow. He's totally into you, and I think you need a little Winchester in your life."

They shut up a moment as their drinks were set in front of them, and Castiel immediately took a huge gulp of whiskey. "Do you know how old he is, Gabriel? He's not even twenty-four. He's eleven years younger than I am."

Gabriel snorted. "He's a big boy, he can make his own choices," the shorter man sucked up some of the chocolatey drink through a straw. "Plus, it doesn't matter what the age difference is! It's not like you're an old man. Maybe you could teach him a few things." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Castiel closed his eyes and tried to count to ten, but Gabriel's words stuck in his head. _Maybe you could teach him a few things_. Castiel had a very difficult time pushing the images out of his head... Dean on his knees, Castiel instructing him through his first blowjob. Dean on his bed, learning how it felt to have his own fingers fucking him open. Dean, pliant and obedient, waiting to-

 _No, god dammit_. Castiel scrubbed his hands over his eyes and took another gulp of whiskey. Dean was straight probably. Yes, he seemed to enjoy Castiel's voice, but maybe the shivers were out of discomfort, or maybe the room was just cold. He didn't know. Anything to get those images to go away.

"He's an employee," Castiel continued, as if his pants hadn't become five times tighter in the past few minutes. "I cannot think of an employee in that way."

"He's in the mail room, Cassie!" Gabriel set his drink down indignantly. "He asks about you, you know," his voice became softer.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "I'm serious," Gabriel spread his hands. "That's the whole reason I sent him to you in the first place. I found him looking at your picture in that hallway on the third floor two weeks ago, and he asked about you."

Two weeks ago. That was before Castiel had even seen Dean. The younger Novak said nothing, instead tracing the rim of his drink with his finger. So Dean had asked about him, so what? He was the CEO of the company Dean worked for. Dean was allowed to ask about his boss, that wasn't out of the ordinary.

There was a murmur of voices from the entrance to the kitchen. Their waitress had her apron in her hand and was speaking to a shadowy figure in the doorframe. To Castiel's delight and mortification, Dean Winchester stepped through the door with an apron of his own in his hand.

"Fuck," Castiel murmured.

"Oh, Cassie, I rarely hear you swear. Does Dean have competition now?" The older Novak craned his head to see who Castiel was staring at. And it was Dean. "And the plot thickens," he murmured.

Castiel was frozen, emotions whirling around in his head. They should leave. They should leave immediately so that Castiel wouldn't have to find out what mixing Dean and alcohol would result in. But they should stay... Castiel had spent a whole twenty-four hours without seeing him at all, and he wouldn't see him Sunday either.

His eyes swept over Dean. He was out of his professional clothes and instead in well-worn jeans that hung _perfectly_ on his hips and a tight black t-shirt that said "Roadhouse Bar and Grille" on the back. His hair was messy now, and Jesus Christ was he mouth-watering.

Then Dean's eyes clashed with Castiel's, and he lit up like a Christmas tree. "Hey, Mr. Novak!" his lopsided smile was nearly blinding. He tied the apron around his waist and nodded at Gabriel. "Mr. Novak."

"Dean, my boy!" Gabriel grinned devilishly. "I see you have an apron there."

Dean glanced down quickly. "Yeah, I work here on the weekends," he cleared his throat.

Without his permission, words slipped out of Castiel's mouth. "Does the mail room not offer you adequate pay?" he asked, more concerned than he should be.

"No, nothing like that," Dean was quick to shake his head. "I'm just paying for my brother's tuition, and it's kind of expensive."

"Stanford is one of the best schools in the nation," Castiel nodded. "It makes sense that it would be expensive."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"So," Dean cleared his throat, changing the subject. "What are y'all drinking?" His slight southern accent came out, and Castiel warmed.

"Mudslide for myself and whiskey for the bro," Gabe gestured to their nearly-drained drinks.

Dean chuckled, removing the dirty glasses. "Jo calls those heart attacks in a cup."

Jo must have been the blonde that left. "I know," Gabriel grinned. "She's pretty, isn't she, Dean?" he glanced at Castiel, who glared daggers.

Dean stilled for a moment. "Yeah, she is, but you might want to steer clear of her. She's like my little sister." Castiel held back a sigh of relief.

"What, am I too old for her?" Castiel stiffened again. Dammit, Gabriel.

Dean glanced at Castiel before pouring more whiskey. "'Course not," he set the glass in front of Castiel with another little glance. "She'd just eat you alive." He set another mudslide in front of Gabriel. "I'm doing you a favor here."

Gabriel laughed, and a little tingle went through Castiel. Was Dean implying that he thought age differences meant nothing in relationships? Or only when it was a matter of just sex? Or was he just trying to scare Gabriel off? He was overthinking every word that came out of that perfect mouth.

Another patron motioned to Dean from the other side of the bar, and Dean moved away with an apologetic smile.

"We need to leave," Castiel muttered as soon as Dean was gone.

"Whoa, whoa, I thought you liked him!" Gabriel said, too loudly for Castiel's taste.

Castiel ignored that. "I shouldn't be drinking around... an employee," he finished lamely.

Gabe snorted, about to make an obscene and inappropriate remark, no doubt. "Gabriel, please," Castiel interrupted, putting on his serious face. "I need to be alone. I need to get ready for the conference next weekend so I can leave before Michael and Dad..." He didn't finish the sentence.

Gabriel immediately sobered up. "Calm down, Cassie, it's gonna be fine. Let's go." Gabriel threw some bills onto the bar and the Novaks crossed the room towards the door. Castiel threw on his trench coat and looked back, meeting Dean's searching gaze.

Castiel could only nod at Dean as a means of goodbye. He still looked confused as the blue-eyed man stepped resolutely out the doorway and into the waiting cab.

 **A/N:** Reviews are always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thank you to my reviewers! So this story is projected to have around fourteen chapters. Maybe fifteen, with an epilogue. That in, unless I pick up some extra inspiration.

In this episode- the big change.

 **Chapter Three**

 _Sunday_

Castiel was punishing himself. It was somewhat sub-conscious, as it happened of its own accord, but when he realized it was happening, he didn't do much to stop it. It had been many, many years since Castiel believed in god or set foot in a church, but the old ways were engrained in him, somewhat.

Sunday morning found him up early, forgoing breakfast to deep clean his entire apartment. He swept and scrubbed and dusted until it shone like a model home and he was sweating through his shirt. Then he got on his treadmill and ran ten miles. Then he jumped into a cold shower and scoured his skin until the tissue was red and no trace of dirt or sweat remained.

He knew on some level that this harsh treatment to himself was punishment, but the suppressed goal of salvation stupidly prevented him from stopping. He sort of hated himself for times like this, when his father's voice wouldn't leave his head, but there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't change himself any more than he already had.

He knew what he should be doing. He should let Dean go, stop himself from inadvertently gravitating towards him. He shouldn't be thinking the thoughts he was.

No, he had every right to think what he wanted. His sexuality wasn't a sin. He wasn't going to hell. Castiel knew this to his core. He had long since taught himself that he was not tainted or damned. There hadn't been a god to help him, so there wouldn't be a god to judge him. He judged himself and chose his own path.

But then again... Dean's green eyes flashed in his mind. Dean was so young and innocent. Castiel may not know his life story, but he knew enough to determine that Dean didn't need any more baggage to carry. No one deserved to carry his baggage. Dean needed someone better, worthy. He wouldn't sully him.

It was three in the afternoon when he was finished with everything, already exhausted and sore. Sadly, there was still some last-minute work he had to do before going into the office tomorrow. He would have liked to have someone there to help him organize his thoughts, at least, but he didn't want to call Rebecca in. She was his secretary, not his personal assistant. Maybe he needed one of those.

He turned on the radio and that new catchy song poured out. " _My church offers no absolutes_ _, she tells me, "Worship in the bedroom." The only heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you."_ Castiel sighed. Time to get to work.

 _Monday_

Castiel was incredibly annoyed. A board meeting was running late, which meant he might miss Dean. He checked his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes.

Castiel's phone was on the table, ringer switched to silent. He was thankful of that when Gabriel's text came in and didn't disturb anyone.

 _Gabriel Novak: Permission to distract, Captain?_

Castiel eyed his brother, who was watching Raphael rattle on about the declining economy and the effect on this year's revenue with feigned interest.

Castiel tapped back a quick, _Please._

"Well," Gabriel clapped his hands. "That sounds lovely, Mr. Finnerman, but I'd like to hear about the proposed goals to _fix_ this downward trend." His voice was just the right amount of patronizing to rile Raphael up. Riled-up Raphael was not an incredibly coherent Raphael.

He sputtered a moment before Castiel spoke. "Alright, I think this particular subject can be tabled for our next meeting," Castiel stood and nodded at Raphael. "Thank you for speaking, Mr. Finnerman." Everyone was dismissed, and Castiel rushed from the room.

The Novak remembered to slow down and breathe before arriving at his office, just in case Dean was there. Thank god he was, because Dean was leaning against his desk, holding Gabe's latest 'Important: Hand Deliver' letter up to the light.

The thunk of the closed door made Dean jump nearly out of his skin. "Mr. Novak, uh, I..." he stuttered, and Cas felt a little tingle of warmth spread through his chest. He was adorable.

"How was work?" Castiel asked, completely ignoring the letter.

"Huh?" Dean asked eloquently.

Castiel smiled. "The Roadhouse?"

Understanding passed over Dean's face. "Oh, right. It was fine. Nothing too terrible." He held out the letter to Castiel, who moved perhaps too close to take it. Even without holding it up to the light, the blue-eyed man could tell the envelope was empty.

"I'm glad." Castiel found he couldn't sit down. He stood maybe a foot away from Dean, and was pleased that they were the same height. He was staring again, but so was the Winchester. He looked a little conflicted. Perhaps wondering if he should bring up Saturday night? It was something more personal than work, which would appeal to his sense of closeness, but Dean probably wondered if that was inappropriate to bring up in the work setting. Castiel knew, though, that he wouldn't deem anything Dean did inappropriate.

"You'll be glad to know that my brother did not suffer a heart attack." He paused. "From the heart attack in a cup. That's what you call it, correct?"

Dean relaxed and grinned. "Yeah. A few more and he was sure to be a gonner."

Castiel forced himself away from Dean and back to his seat. He had unconsciously swayed closer and caught a faint scent on the younger man. If he had leaned in, there was no telling if he'd ever detach himself.

Dean fidgeted, and Castiel realized he was staring again. "Do you want me to go? Or did you want to play the question game again?" Castiel tilted his head in confusion, and Dean stuck his hands in his pockets. "Y'know, you always ask me a question before I leave, and then I ask you back..."

Right, yes. What to ask him now? Castiel's previously thought up questions were always far too invasive or too boring, in his opinion. In Dean's presence, his thoughts of tainting the man vanished, and unabashed curiosity got the better of him.

"What do you dream about?" he found himself asking moments later.

Dean's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "Uh..." He swallowed, and Castiel's eyes followed the bob of his adam's apple. "Stuff, I guess," he toed at the carpet, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

"I too dream about 'stuff'," Castiel let a tiny teasing glint in his eye.

Dean looked flustered for a moment, then narrowed his eyes at Castiel. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?" he asked.

Castiel's smile dropped off his face. Dean had cursed in front of him before, but the term 'fucking' rolled off his tongue in the best way. The percussive consonants made Castiel think of his lips and tongue, pressing together and apart to form the syllables. If he could only remove the 'with'.

"I am," Castiel said, a bit too low. He wished.

He did not miss the distinct darkening of those green eyes. "Yeah," Dean breathed.

Castiel's fingers itched to touch, to rip his offending clothing away and show him the true meaning of the term 'fucking'. "Thank you, Dean," Castiel said, as he did every other day, and Dean nearly stumbled out of the room.

The second the door closed, Castiel's head dropped onto his desk. So Dean was attracted to him. That was obvious, no matter how much Castiel dismissed it. And he was so beyond attracted to Dean that the mere thought of his presence sent his heart fluttering.

No, he had more control than that. The knowledge that Dean was affected by him sent sparks of pleasure through him, but he wouldn't give in. He would stop this. He thunked his head on his desk again, realizing that work just became a lot harder.

o o o

The next two days were a little easier to get through than Monday. Tuesday, he learned that Dean's favorite color was blue, and Castiel's was green. Wednesday, he learned that they shared a love of cheeseburgers. Thursday was... interesting.

Castiel was standing next to Rebecca's desk outside his office. "I'm pregnant, Mr. Novak."

Castiel didn't understand. Rebecca was slim, with maybe the slightest protrusion from her abdomen proving that statement. "Congratulations," he said. "Why does it sound like an apology?"

"I'm moving up to New Hampshire to be with my family," she told him. "I have to put in my notice."

Castiel blinked. "Oh. That's alright." Shit. He was just thinking that he could use two secretaries and now he would have none?

"I will also be unable to go to the conference with you this weekend," she said apologetically. Well. That was tomorrow.

"That... will be fine," Castiel murmured, already lost in thought. This was bad. He didn't even know everything he was supposed to be doing this weekend. He turned to go back into his office when he caught Dean standing behind the pair.

"Hey, Mr. Novak," he said carefully.

"Hello, Dean," he greeted the younger man, thoughts torn between how wonderful Dean looked today and what the hell he was going to do with himself.

Dean eyed Rebecca, who was typing up something last minute, possibly. The letter was clasped in his hand. "You may come in," Castiel opened the door. It was the first time he had actually invited Dean into his office unbidden.

"Sorry about your secretary," Dean shuffled towards the center of the room. "I wasn't eavesdropping, y'all were just outside."

"It's not a problem," Castiel leaned against his desk. "I've just become painfully aware of how unprepared I am to run my own life."

Dean chuckled. "It get's easier, man," he said, like he was the one imparting wisdom unto Castiel. Maybe he was.

Castiel's mouth opened without his permission. "Would you like a promotion?"

Dean's mouth dropped open for a second, and Castiel could see the wheels turning in his head. After a second, his parted lips closed and his brow furrowed. "I appreciate the offer, Mr. Novak, but you don't need to promote me 'cause you feel bad. I know I'm working two jobs, but it's going fine and-"

"Dean," Castiel interrupted, and the younger man fell silent. "I was not offering charity. I requested you because I know you work hard. If anyone can help me get my shit together, as Gabriel says, it would be you." Where was this coming from?

A slow grin spread across Dean's face. "You mean it?"

The corners of Castiel's lips quirked up. "I do. Though, not as a secretary; as a personal assistant." Yes, that would be better. It might come back to bite him in the ass, but it was his own damn fault.

"Well then," Dean tossed the letter onto Castiel's desk. "I guess I'm your new PA."

Castiel smiled brightly, then frowned. "Will you be available this weekend?"

"Yeah, what's going on?"

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "You'll be traveling to Baltimore with me and a few staff members to attend a conference."

Dean's eyes went wide. "Okay. Okay, I can do that. Uh, let me talk to-" he looked back towards the direction of Castiel's now-former secretary.

"Rebecca," the Novak supplied.

"Yeah, Rebecca. Hang on."

As Dean and Rebecca conversed, Castiel strode to his desk and picked up the phone, dialing Ruby's number in the mail room.

"Ruby Doe, mail room," came the response.

"Hello, this is Castiel Novak. I'm calling to inform you than one of your employees, Dean Winchester, has been promoted and will not be returning to the mail room again." Ruby said something, but it was mumble-y and Castiel hung up.

This was all going very fast.

Castiel sat heavily in a chair near the corner of his office just as Dean re-entered the room with a small stack of papers in his hands.

"Okay," he said, an expression of intense concentration on his face. "So the plane takes off at eleven thirty, and the flight's two and a half hours long plus time change, so we'll get in at three-ish. We should all be at the airport at ten or ten thirty, just in case something goes wrong. I have the tickets here..." he flipped a few papers, "and here's the conference itinerary. So if we get there at three, check in to the hotel by four, then we'll have time to eat dinner before the opening at six."

Dean looked up and was met with Castiel's awed stare. Dean had been his PA for all of five minutes and had already taken to it like a fish to water. "Amazing," Castiel murmured to himself, but Dean heard and flushed beet red.

"So, uh, I guess I should pack?"

"Yes," Castiel swallowed. "Yes, you may go early to pack."

Dean looked down at himself. "What kind of clothes do I need to bring to this thing?"

"You are perfect as you are," Castiel said. It just kind of slipped out. Oops.

Dean muttered a thank you and was out the door quickly. Castiel didn't really register this; he was still stuck on the fact that Dean was now his new personal assistant. He would be seeing a lot more of him. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. How the hell was he going to control himself now?

That evening, Castiel received a call from an unknown number.

"Castiel Novak."

 _"_ _Hey, Mr. Novak."_ It was Dean's voice. _"I got your number from Rebecca."_

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said slowly. It was getting late, and hearing Dean's actual voice in his sleepy state brought several bedtime-themed images of the young man to his mind.

 _"_ _Just wanted to let you know that a car's picking you up tomorrow from your house at nine thirty. I scheduled one for the rest of the staff going too."_

Castiel blinked slowly. "That was very thoughtful of you," he murmured. In the past, they all just sort of showed up at the airport and met at the gate, but this was much more efficient.

 _"'_ _Course,"_ Dean voice was proud. _"Gotta take my new job seriously, don't I?"_

Castiel chuckled. "Of course."

There was a long pause. _"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?"_ It was more of a question, even though Dean held the plane tickets in his hands.

"You will," Castiel stretched out in his bed. "Thank you, Dean."

The Winchester cleared his throat on the other end of the line. _"Night, Mr. Novak."_

"Good night, Dean." Click.

Jesus Tapdancing Christ. From Dean's voice alone, he was standing at attention, impatient and needy. In his tea-warmed state, he didn't stop himself from gripping his length tightly and losing himself in thoughts of darkened green eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Castiel stepped out of the surprisingly nice car, suitcase in hand, and strode into the airport. His trench coat flapped behind him, and his esophagus still burned from the hasty cup of coffee he downed before the car arrived at his apartment.

Dean stood amidst the small group of staff. It was less of a group and more just Crowley and Jody Mills. Dean was saying something and tapping on a tablet.

"Mr. Crowley, Mrs. Mills, Dean," Castiel greeted the small group, and Dean beamed up at him.

"Hey, Mr. Novak." Crowley was looking at him with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing. The British man was occasionally an insufferable little shit, but he was invaluable as the head of PR, and was actually very accommodating when he chose to be. Castiel had a strange relationship with him, as if he were the weird uncle at the family gatherings.

Jody Mills, on the other hand, was one of the people he respected most in the world. She was a Vice President for a reason. Jody Mills was unwaveringly warm, loyal, and dedicated. Her mothering tendencies put everyone around her at ease. However, she never once took shit from anyone. She could hold her ground against the most biting of adversaries and tear them to pieces with her words. She was, as Gabriel put it, a gem.

And then there was Dean, who was still smiling at him like the sun shined out his ass. That was where Castiel's thoughts trailed off.

"Good, all on time," the Novak remarked.

The trip through security was quick, and the small group found themselves waiting at the gate. There was that catchy song again, playing in the background near the gate. " _Take me to church_ _, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies, I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife..._ There was still nearly an hour to wait before they could board the plane, and while Castiel chatted idly with Crowley, Dean disappeared.

Castiel fought the urge to look for him. Dean was a big boy, he could walk around an airport without needing to check-in every five minutes.

"Exceptional young man, isn't he?" Crowley asked, as if reading Castiel's thoughts.

Castiel chose his words carefully. "He's adapting very well to his position on such short notice, yes."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, but Castiel kept his face blank. The man was too perceptive for his own good.

It was then that Dean returned with four cups in tow. He handed each out, one by one. "Tea with milk for Mr. Crowley, because he insulted my coffee more than once." Dean handed a steaming cup to the grinning Brit. "Peppermint mocha with an extra shot for Mrs. Mills, because your favorite things are Christmas and caffeine." Jody smiled brightly at him. "And black coffee for Mr. Novak with a few ice cubes, because you always burn your tongue." Castiel took his cup with surprise. How did Dean know?

"It's amazing you remembered," Jody rubbed Dean's back. "It was last January when I told you that."

Castiel's brow furrowed. Last January was _way_ before Dean begun working for Novak  & Sons.

Dean must have seen his confused face. "Jody, I mean Mrs. Mills, comes to our family Christmases. She's Ellen's best friend. Ellen is Jo's mom, who runs the Roadhouse." Castiel nodded, trying to keep up. "Ellen's like family to me, so we all spend the holidays together."

"And what did you order?" Castiel found himself asking.

Dean looked down at his cup. "A latte." He glanced up at Castiel. "It's kinda girly, I know, but my brother's a health freak and it always annoys him when I get this much sugar."

Castiel smiled, remembering when he was younger, and Gabriel would always find a way into his room, no matter how tightly he locked it. Brothers were made to annoy. He sipped his coffee- the perfect temperature.

It seemed like minutes before their seats were being called to board. They had row 4, seats C and D, and row 5, seats C and D. To Castiel's pleasure, Dean dropped into a seat next to him.

"I've never been in first class before," the Winchester patted the leather seats. "Way better than economy." Castiel ran his fingers over his own seat's leather. This was one thing about his job that he loved- flying. He always took a window seat to see the expanse of ground below. He always imagined that it was just him in the sky, free of earthly duties.

 _"_ _Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be taking off momentarily. Flight attendants please be seated for departure."_

Castiel settled into his seat, embracing the pulling sensations as they left the ground. Soft humming came from his left, and he turned to Dean. The man was gripping the seat's cushioned arms tightly, his eyes screwed shut. He was humming something that Castiel vaguely remembered from his college days, when his favorite music was classic rock.

"Are you humming Metallica?" he asked quietly.

"Calms me down," Dean muttered.

"You don't like flying," Castiel stated rather than asked. Dean shook his head. "Tell me a story then."

Dean opened his eyes. "What?"

"Tell me a story, or something to take your attention off the flight," Castiel asked, leaning forward. "Tell me about something you love."

Dean tensed as the plane hit a bit of turbulence. "Well, I love my car," Dean chuckled humorlessly to himself.

"What kind of car of you have?" the blue-eyed man coaxed.

"She's a Chevy Impala. 1967. Built her myself, actually."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "You built the entire car?"

Dean let out a little laugh. "I mean, my dad wrecked her, absolutely totaled. They wanted to scrap her and sell the pieces, but I put her back together. She's perfect now."

Dean's hands had loosened their grip on the armrests. "When did you do that?" Castiel asked.

Dean sat back. "I was fourteen or fifteen, I think. Not legal to drive, anyway. My dad was, uh," Dean glanced away, "inebriated, and he crashed the car. Our family friend owns a garage, and he was gonna give us a good price for the scrap metal, but I convinced him to let me keep it. I worked on her for months."

Dean went on to talk about some specifics that Castiel didn't understand, things about the engine and how he acquired certain parts. He'd nod and smile anyway, enthralled with how animated Dean became. His eyes lit up like they did when he talked about his brother, and the corners of his mouth pulled up of their own accord.

His voice was beautiful. The smooth grumble traveled up and down the scale like music. He used his hands when he talked, motioning to show the shape of the hood or mime fixing some valve or another.

He moved on to the weird little things he loved about his car, like the toy soldier permanently stuck in the ashtray and the legos in the air vents. "My dad was pissed, but he couldn't get them out without taking apart the inside. They still rattle around when I turn the heat on."

Castiel smiled, and Dean fell quiet and matched him. "We have only about forty-five minutes left," Castiel gave Dean a wry look.

Dean's jaw dropped. "Oh." He looked past Castiel out the window without shaking. "Thanks, Mr. Novak."

"Castiel," he said suddenly. Dean's eyebrows furrowed. "You may call me Castiel. We'll be working very closely with each other from now on..." the Novak shrugged.

"Castiel," Dean tested out the word. It sounded like honey in his voice, syllables rolling easily off his tongue. "Castiel it is then."

Castiel couldn't repress a little shiver of delight when Dean said his name. The way one says a name can say a lot. The Novak could easily imagine it breathed against his lips, low and full of need. Or cried out, reverberating around his bedroom, wavering as the man shook.

He looked away quickly. Forty-five minutes left.

Thankfully, Dean fell into a light sleep. Castiel tried to keep his eyes off his dozing form, not noticing how the thin lines on his face smoothed out in sleep, or how his lips parted just barely...

The images in his head changed. Dean, sleeping soundly in Castiel's fluffy bed, limbs askew and hogging pillows. Dean sprawled across Castiel's couch, light of the forgotten television flickering in the background. The pictures thrilled him just as much as the previous ones had.

Castiel hadn't realized that he too had dozed off until the plane began its final descent, his ears popping painfully to wake him. Dean didn't open his eyes until the wheels touched down, and surprise took his sleepy features. "Hey, we're there," he mumbled.

"We are," Castiel smiled at his half-lidded expression. "You survived."

Dean grinned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Thanks to you," he mumbled, grabbing his carry on. Castiel said nothing as they all stepped out of the plane. Jody and Crowley were in the middle of an intense debate about some cult book series, so the Winchester and the Novak walked side by side quietly.

Castiel wasn't sure what compelled him to speak, but he did. "How did you come upon Novak & Sons?" Innocent question. Business-like.

"It was Sam, actually," Dean hefted his bag on his shoulder. "He's actually really interested in the company after your brother gave a talk at Stanford, and Jody loves working here. I needed another job and it just seemed like the right place to look." Dean shrugged.

The corner of Castiel's lips quirked up, and he nodded. Dean's eyes looked him over once, curiously. "I know your name's in the company name and all, but did you want to be CEO your whole life?"

Castiel's smile dropped. Should he tell him? A glance forward told him that Crowley and Jody weren't listening. "I almost went into the air force," he said quietly.

Dean's eyebrows rose. "Why didn't you?"

"Various reasons," he said. Dean looked at him expectantly, and he sighed. "My father disapproved, and threatened to cut me off. I was fine with that, until... someone tipped off the local Air Force recruiter of my sexuality, and he too disapproved. That left me with few options."

There was a moment of quiet, and Castiel wondered if he had said too much. He had kept it to the barest minimum he could, but-

"God, Cas, I'm so sorry," Dean murmured. The previous memories of that time in his life vanished with the mention of the nickname. Cas. Dean's eyes widened as if he just realized he said it. "Oh, uh, sorry. Castiel is a mouthful."

"Cas is fine," Castiel's smile was back. "It's far better than my brother's nickname for me."

"Which is...?" Dean prompted.

"Cassie."

The Winchester laughed. "You're right, Cas is better." Then after a second, "I dated a girl named Cassie once."

Castiel didn't have time to respond to that. Crowley and Jody were climbing into their shuttle bus, which took them directly to the hotel and convention center. The bus ride was short, and Dean was engaged in a conversation with Jody about something or other. Castiel was content to sit beside Dean, absorbing his warmth in the crowded bus.

They each had separate rooms, as was the rule, however torn Castiel felt about it. Same floor, though, thank goodness.

Castiel sat in his room, watching the clock. The first presentation was a motivational speaker, Dick Roman, and the Novak groaned to himself. At least that would be the only presentation that day, and then they were free to do as they please. Castiel would cross that particular bridge when he came to it.

 _Knock knock._ "Cas? It's me."

He felt himself relax and tense at the same time. It was a really weird feeling. "I'm coming," he called, shrugging on his suit jacket. He left his beloved trench coat behind.

Castiel shut his door quietly. Dean was armed with an iPad and a smile. "Mrs. Mills and Mr. Crowley are downstairs already. "We've got a motivational speaker first, it's-"

"Dick Roman, I know," Castiel and Dean walked towards the elevator. "Prepare yourself."

They were the only ones in the elevator. The second the doors closed, a huge blanket of tension fell over the cramped space. It felt ten degrees hotter, and Dean shifted his feet nervously. What if Castiel just pushed Dean against the wall and claimed him, right there? Would Dean let him? Would he melt under Castiel's touch?

He had leaned almost imperceptibly into Dean's space, and Castiel forced himself to snap out of it. Dean said something about dating a girl earlier, one named Cassie. This indicated straightness, or past straightness... Castiel needed to stop.

It was then that Dean's head turned, and his green eyes met blue. Castiel hadn't realized he was staring, but Dean didn't look uncomfortable. No, he looked... no, it couldn't be lustful. His pupils were dilated because of the dark. But his lips were parted deliciously. Castiel wondered for the thousandth time what they would taste like.

 _Ding!_ The doors slid open and the spell was broken. Castiel cleared his throat, embarrassed, and marched out of the elevator. After a second, he heard Dean's footsteps catch up.

They didn't say another word until they were seated next to Jody and Crowley, the latter of which took a swig from a flask. "It'll be a miracle if I make it through the hour," the man grumbled. Castiel remembered something about the Brit working with Dick Roman years ago and being fired unreasonably.

"Drinks on me if you do," Castiel joked. His face was unmoving, but Crowley knew him well enough to chuckle.

The presentation wasn't too horrible. Castiel didn't care enough to take notes, but Dean typed out notes on his iPad for Castiel, which he found kind of heart-warming. At the end of his little introduction, Roman said, "I'm a shark. And a shark's gotta eat."

Dean let out a breath, and Castiel looked over to him. On the screen, Dean had typed _Dick Roman = Royal Dick_

Castiel couldn't hold back a little giggle, and Dean grinned widely at him. Dean took wonderfully detailed notes that Castiel never thought to take, and he put in little sassy comments and jokes that the Novak couldn't help but laugh at. Watching his fingers fly over the screen was mesmerizing, and before Castiel knew it, the presentation was over and he didn't feel like throttling Motivational Speaker Roman.

They stepped out of the ballroom that the presentation was being held at, and the throng of people were milling about, speaking to each other in boisterous voices. "I think this is a networking reception," Dean murmured.

"Right, yes," Castiel cleared his throat. Speaking to his peers, that was not something he looked forward to. And yet...

"Is that Castiel Novak I see?" a bald, dark-skinned man clapped him on the back.

"Hello, Uriel. I was unaware that you were coming." Castiel smiled politely.

The man leaned back. "It appears that with promotions come more responsibilities." It was then that he seemed to notice Dean fidgeting at Castiel's elbow. "And who is this?"

Castiel nodded reassuringly at Dean. "This is Dean Winchester, my personal assistant. Dean, this is Uriel Angelo, a friend of mine from grad school."

Though he looked a little uncomfortable, Dean stood straight and shook his hand firmly. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Angelo," he said before melting back behind Castiel.

"They start so young these days," Uriel gave the blue-eyed man a wry smile, as if Dean weren't even there.

"Sir," a brunette with sweeping hair stepped up to Uriel. "Bartholomew just arrived."

"Excellent! He'll be happy to see you, Castiel." Uriel clapped a hand on the Novak's shoulder. "Inias, why don't you ask Winchester about the company? See how he likes it there?" Uriel pulled Castiel away and Dean shot him a pleading look. Castiel gave him an answering sad look. _I'm sorry for leaving you alone here,_ it said.

Bartholomew was another friend from Grad school. They chatted idly, subtly edging in comments about their statuses and wealth. Castiel was only half paying attention; he had one eye on Dean at all times. Uriel's assistant- Inias- was lo longer standing ramrod straight. He was leaning casually onto the nearest table, smiling at Dean with a glint in his eye. Dean's back was turned towards Castiel, so he couldn't monitor what was happening.

"Castiel," Bartholomew snapped the Novak out of his admittedly jealous haze.

"Yes, hello," Castiel cleared his throat. "Apologies." Uriel and Bartholomew were looking at him strangely. "I- I forgot that I never allowed my employees time for dinner. Please excuse me."

Castiel got the fuck out and beelined for Dean and Inias, the latter of whom was leaning close to Dean with clear bedroom eyes. "Dean," Castiel put a hand on the Winchester's shoulder.

"Oh, hey Cas." Was it Castiel's imagination or did Dean lean into his touch?

"Inias," Castiel greeted the other man, who leaned away from the two. "I apologize for the intrusion, but my employees and I are going to dinner now. Dean?"

Dean gave Inias a polite smile. "I'll see you around," he said.

"Hope so," Inias smiled brightly.

Castiel's hand tightened imperceptibly on Dean's shoulder, and the two walked quickly away. Castiel let his hand drop after a minute, embarrassed at the barely concealed territorial display.

"Thanks," Dean said, surprising Castiel. "That was, uh, uncomfortable."

Castiel glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "He was..."

"Hitting on me, yeah," Dean chuckled.

"And you prefer women," Castiel said evenly.

Dean pointedly didn't look at Castiel. "No, actually. Just not him."

Castiel blinked. "Oh." From the source itself, Dean liked men. Didn't matter. Castiel was still restraining himself.

They found Jody and Crowley quickly, both of whom were excited to leave. The restaurant they selected was dim and noisy, but it was in the hotel and therefore required no transportation.

Dean and Jody began a conversation reminiscing about someone's birthday a few years back, with Crowley torn between listening and laughing, and watching Castiel. That man was too perceptive for his own good, and Castiel was suddenly nervous that his attraction was written all over his face.

Luckily the dinner didn't last long, as all participants were eager for solitude in their own rooms. The elevator ride was less tense, though Dean still stood close to Castiel. The older man said nothing, content to feel the warmth radiating from the younger.

They all parted ways, Castiel forcing himself not to make up an excuse to keep talking to Dean. But he had to say goodnight, like he always said goodbye to him. It was a compulsion.

Jody and Crowley were gone and Dean was opening his door when Castiel put a hand on his bicep. Dean turned to look at him, blinking big green eyes. "Good night, Dean," he said quietly.

Dean took a quiet breath. "Night Cas," he murmured. His lips were there, so close, if he could only close the few-inch gap... No, he couldn't. With his remaining will power, he gave Dean a little smile and let himself into his own room a few doors down.

Once it was closed, he leaned against it, well aware of how bad his idea to make Dean his personal assistant was. Well, it was a good idea because Dean was hardworking and dedicated and so far, really good at it. It was bad because, well, his urges were getting stronger.

And he wouldn't do that to Dean. Dean deserved the freedom that twenty-somethings should have. And if he didn't want that, Dean deserved someone like Inias. The man was, what, twenty-six? Twenty-seven? Much younger than Castiel. A younger man would be ready for things at the same time as Dean. They would make the decision to get a house together, maybe adopt kids together. They would grow old together. After all, there was a big difference between sixty and seventy.

But what if Dean _could_ handle it? What if he didn't need freedom? What if he was okay that Castiel already picked out a big, nice house and has his life together? Castiel groaned. He looked willing, even if he didn't know what he would get himself into.

This war inside him was tiring. He needed sleep.

Castiel barely managed to undress before falling face first onto the stiff hotel bed, asleep in minutes.

 **A/N:** Reviews are always appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thank you to nasyahprice1, MimiDuJour, Coconut, and AM for your reviews! They are my life, keep them coming!

In this chapter, a night in the right direction.

 **Chapter Five**

Castiel woke from his nightmare, barely able to muffle his scream with a pillow. It took a second, but his wild eyes eventually recognized the room as a hotel room, as his body as that of a thirty-five year old man's.

As his heartbeat slowed, he tried to shake the horrible images from his head. They were usually about his father, but this one was about Michael. It wasn't even a specific memory, just the cold blanket of terror, dread, and depressive acceptance. Castiel shook his head, expelling thoughts about cold, black eyes and acid-like touches.

He showered quickly in scalding water, hoping to burn away the rest of his sleep. It did clear his head, thank goodness, and he dressed quickly, ignoring the dark circles under his eyes.

Nearly an hour later, Castiel met Jody and Crowley at the elevator. "Day two," Jody muttered before pressing the button.

Castiel's brow furrowed. "Are we not waiting for Dean?"

"Your boy toy's gone downstairs already," Crowley said dismissively, but Castiel knew better. He was teasing him. "Maybe to meet that other strapping young fellow."

Castiel was not in the mood. He wasn't awake enough to respond appropriately, though he'd already downed the two cups of coffee the hotel rooms stocked up on. Instead, he stepped into the closing elevator and pressed his lips together, resolutely making no sound.

The elevator music was low, thankfully. " _My lover's got humor_ _, She's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshipped her sooner_."

Dean was nowhere to be found when the three arrived at the convention brunch. They took a seat and Jody set her purse on an additional chair, saving it for Dean. "Mr. Novak?" she asked him quietly.

"Yes, Mrs. Mills?" he answered, trying to seem alert and interested.

Jody frowned. "Are you alright?"

Castiel forced a smile. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired. I haven't been to a convention in a while." He'd gotten good at lying, and Jody believed him.

"Hey, Cas," a much more comforting voice said from behind. Castiel turned to find Dean, beautifully awake and gorgeous as ever in business attire, holding two coffee cups.

"Morning," Castiel said, gesturing to the chair saved for the young man.

Dean set a cup in front of Castiel's empty plate. "The coffee is really crappy here, and there's a little coffee shop next door. The stuff's way better." Castiel raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. Warm, rich, and not scalding.

"You remembered the ice," Castiel didn't have to force a smile this time.

Dean jokingly scoffed. "'Course I did. I know what I'm doing." He grinned, and something pulled in Castiel's chest.

Jody gave him a secretive smile, and he ignored her.

The day went mostly as it had the evening before. There were keynote speakers from various companies, workshops, and painful networking opportunities. Dean stuck close to his side, and Castiel was grateful. Dean didn't ask about the dark circles around his eyes, or why he drank another cup of coffee after inhaling the one Dean gave him.

The last event of the weekend was closed, and Castiel was excited to get out of the ballroom and into his bed, maybe watch some B-rated horror movie and have dreams about _The Blob_ instead of his brother. Maybe Dean would go over the notes from the convention with him or something. Just the prospect of spending innocent time with him sounded amazing.

"Dear lord, is that Castiel Novak here before me?" a smooth British voice said just as he was getting ready to leave.

"Ahhh it's Cassie!" a female voice squealed, and he couldn't help but smile.

Castiel turned to see Balthazar and Charlie, the latter of which was sprinting at him. "Oof!" he caught Charlie in a hug. "Hello to the both of you."

"I thought you hated conventions!" Charlie said, automatically fixing his tie and smoothing down the wrinkles in the shoulders of his suit.

"I thought you hated people," Balthazar reached them and clasped a hand on Castiel's shoulder.

"You are both correct, and yet I'm here." He couldn't help grin at his friends, until someone behind him caught Charlie's eye.

"You didn't tell us you had a _boyfriend_?!" she squealed, and Castiel's eyes widened. He spun around.

"Oh, uh, I'm not... I mean, we're not, y'know, together," Dean stuttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Balthazar raised an eyebrow at Castiel, and Dean shot him a pleading look.

"Dean is my personal assistant," the Novak explained, moving to stand next to him. "Dean, these are my college friends-"

"Current friends, you ass," Charlie fake-punched him in the shoulder.

Castiel smiled. "My _current_ friends, Charlie and Balthazar."

Balthazar was giving him that smile that he always wore before embarrassing Castiel in college. Castiel held back a groan, because that meant he was about to do it again.

"Come out for drinks with us! Both of you." He grinned at Dean, who relaxed a little bit.

Castiel opened his mouth to argue, but it would be really nice to see his friends, but... They would undoubtedly embarrass him in front of Dean, tell all the horror stories from the good ol' days, and force feed him enough alcohol to dance on a table.

"Sounds good, if it's cool with Cas," Dean made the decision for him, looking expectantly at the older man.

There was a little pause, and then, "Why not?"

The four went to the hotel bar, which was surprisingly nice for one. Balthazar immediately ordered everyone two shots of tequila. "I insist!" he said over the buzz of the room.

Castiel hadn't taken shots in over six years, if he remembered correctly. Dean downed his quickly, showing absolutely no reaction to them. Castiel took one hesitantly and felt the burn sink to his stomach. He scrunched up his nose.

"You alright there?" Dean asked him with a grin.

Castiel drank the other before replying. "It's been awhile."

"Dean," Charlie began. "How long've you been Cassie's PA?"

Dean chuckled. "Only a few days, actually."

"Balthazar," Castiel interrupted, saving Dean from the third degree. "I thought you went back to London last year."

The blonde shrugged and ordered himself a drink. "A case with my name popped up, and I couldn't say no."

"Balthazar is a criminal defense lawyer," Castiel explained to Dean.

"The best of my kind," he said.

"Humble too," Charlie grinned, and then turned to Dean. "Where did Castiel find you anyway?"

"I actually worked at Novak & Sons for a few weeks before the promotion," Dean smiled, sipping his amber liquid.

"A few weeks, huh?" she gave Castiel a knowing smile. He wanted to sink into the floor.

"You're supposed to be in New York," Castiel deflected the subject.

"I took a break," Charlie shrugged. "Owning an engineering company and being a female, if incredibly gay, is actually not fun," she pouted. "Plus, the company is in good hands. I left Dorothy in charge." She wiggled her eyebrows and Dean chuckled.

"You left your wife to run your company?" Balthazar's eyes widened.

"Wife?" Castiel's did too.

Charlie grinned. "I liked it, so I put a ring on it. And she _is_ a VP, so it shouldn't be too difficult for her."

"How is it?" Dean asked. "Working with your wife, I mean."

"Surprisingly easy," she glanced at Castiel. "We do work at work and we don't bring it home unless necessary. We both have a good work ethic, and I don't treat her differently because of it." She shrugged, and Castiel's heart was beating far too fast. Maybe it was the tequila.

He immediately ordered another drink, along with the rest of the table.

After far too short a time, they decided to regale Dean with stories of college Castiel. "Seriously, he taught the freshmen about Foucault while totally smashed. Tie around his head and everything."

"He once sat on the top of a bank at two in the morning because he wanted to read with better lighting. He had no idea that there was a robbery in progress, and he spent the night in jail with a hobo."

"Our senior year, he crashed a wedding by pretending to be in the band. He got through three Aerosmith songs before they threw him out."

"He lost a bet with Balth and paid him over fifteen hundred dollars in change. Buckets of change, Dean."

"We dated for a bit," Balthazar grinned evilly at Castiel. "Worst decision he's ever made, probably."

Dean's eyes widened, and Castiel balked. "It was for three weeks!" he cried, liquor clearly taken over. "And it was weird."

Charlie made a face and swayed in her chair. "It _was_ weird."

" _Anyway,_ " Balthazar turned his attention to Dean, who looked pleasantly drunk. "Tell us about you, Dean."

The Winchester set down his whiskey. "Whaddaya want to know?" he asked.

"Got a lady friend in your life?" Charlie put her chin on her palm, as if listening to a story.

Dean chuckled. "Nope."

"Gentleman friend?" Balthazar offered helpfully.

Dean swallowed. "Not at the moment."

"Ooh, a prospect?" Charlie giggled.

"I don't really know," he said, pointedly avoiding Castiel's eyes. "I guess we'll see." He tipped the rest of the glass into his mouth, and Castiel couldn't help but admire the stretch of lightly tanned skin over his throat. It didn't have Castiel's mark on it, and his brows furrowed. That would look lovely there.

Charlie and Balthazar exchanged a look before Balthazar slid another whiskey to Dean and said, "Tell me about this brother of yours."

Dean began talking animatedly, and Charlie scooted over to Castiel. "You like him, don't you." It wasn't a question.

"'S nothing," Castiel slurred. "You're drunk."

Charlie laughed. "You are too, idiot." He snorted. "But really, I haven't seen you look at anyone like that. Ever." Castiel glanced at Dean, who was telling Balthazar about Sam's plans to become a lawyer.

"I can't, Charlie," he choked, more emotion than he'd like tinging his voice. "I can't do that to him."

Charlie sobered up. "Castiel, I know what you're thinking, so just stop right now."

Castiel grumbled something unintelligible, finishing off his drink.

"We helped you work through all that shit, and we're still here for you," she gestures vaguely to Balthazar. "You deserve love, Cassie, because you're fucking amazing and if they ever tell you otherwise again I swear to god I'll put them on FBI's Most Wanted."

Castiel chuckled over Charlie's indignant, "You know I can!"

"I don't know. He's an employee, and he's _so young_."

"So?" Charlie motioned for the bartender and Castiel shook his head at him. Charlie pouted but continued. "He looks at you the same, you know. He has those lovesick puppy eyes whenever you so much as look at him."

"I can't-"

"Cassie, shut the fuck up," Charlie put a hand on his shoulder. "If it's something you want, go for it."

It was then that Balthazar slipped off his chair laughing, and Dean declared that they might have all had enough for the night.

Charlie took Balthazar back to his hotel room, and Dean and Castiel were once again alone in an elevator. They were also still drunk. "What were you and Charlie talking about?" Dean's eyes were lidded.

"Jus' how my life's goin'," Castiel slurred a little, one hand on the wall for support.

Dean chuckled. "You don't drink much, do you?" he asked.

Castiel shook his head. "The last time I was this drunk was at Gabriel's thirty-fifth birthday party."

"How old is he now?"

"Thirty-nine." Dean giggled, and the elevator dinged to signal their floor.

They walked towards their doors, Castiel aware enough to keep an appropriate distance from him. They stopped in front of Dean's door.

"G'night, Dean," Castiel said as always.

"Night Cas," Dean replied.

 _Kiss him! Kiss him now!_ Castiel's internal monologue screamed. His lips were right there, all pink and parted. They probably tasted like whiskey. He could just-

No. No, he needed to get the fuck out of there. He stumbled away, two doors down to his own door. Just as he fished his keycard out, he heard a little groan from Dean.

His eyes snapped to the man, who was leaning his head against his door. "Lost my keycard," he muttered.

"There's one in your hand," Castiel stated dumbly, the little blue card dangling from his fingers.

Dean thunked his head against the door. "It's your spare, just in case you lost yours. 'S okay, I'll just-"

"Stay in my room," Castiel blurted. Dean looked at him with wide eyes, and he cleared his throat. "I mean, my room has a couch. It's really late and you should sleep or the plane ride will be hell tomorrow." Yeah. Good justification.

Dean looked at the floor, weighing his options. Castiel was about to take back the stupid suggestion when Dean said, "Okay. Thanks, Cas."

Castiel held the door open for Dean and let it close behind him. It felt weird having Dean in a hotel room with him. It felt strangely intimate, but also distancing. Dean looked around, a little lost, until Castiel snapped out of it and got with the program.

"Here, uh, pajamas," Castiel handed him a spare pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, pulling out a set for himself. "You can take the bed, it's too hard for me anyway."

Dean clutched the clothing tightly, as if someone were about to take them from him. "You sure?" he asked quietly.

Castiel nodded. "The couch will be better for my back." They stood, staring at each other for a moment, before Dean nodded and disappeared to the bathroom.

Castiel changed quickly and pulled a pillow and blanket to the couch. He wasn't lying, it was actually quite comfortable. He fiddled with his phone until Dean came out, clothing fitting tightly over his muscled chest. Castiel's sweatpants hung low on his hips, revealing just a hint of the sharp lines that lead to-

Jesus. Castiel could _not_ get a hard-on with Dean in the room, however attractive he looked in his clothes. He averted his eyes, hearing the ruffle of the comforter on the bed. All was quiet, until Dean murmured a, "Thanks, Cas."

Castiel snuggled down into the cushions. "Of course, Dean." He fell asleep surprisingly quickly.

o o o

A soft whimpering sound woke Castiel from his REM sleep. He was groggy, but he heard it again, a sort of soft, pained moaning.

It was Dean, clutching the pillow like a lifeline, sweating and grimacing. He was having a nightmare. Castiel went over to the bed, trying to shake Dean awake. "Dean," he mumbled, voice low with sleep. He grasped Dean's forearm. "Dean!"

The Winchester sat bolt upright in the bed, wide eyes wet with unshed tears. He looked around, uncomprehending until his sight fell on Castiel. "Cas?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's okay," Castiel murmured. "It's just a nightmare, you're fine."

Dean swiped at his eyes, movements fumbling with exhaustion. He was still holding onto Castiel's wrist, and when he lay back down, he tugged on it.

Castiel froze. Dean was still kind of asleep and potentially still drunk, he didn't know what he was doing. But Castiel was also kind of asleep and potentially still drunk and didn't know what he was doing either, which is what he told himself when he slipped under the covers next to Dean. The Winchester rolled to bury his head into Castiel's chest and was fast asleep.

This couldn't be happening. It was just a dream. Things like this didn't happen to Castiel in real life. He wasn't lucky enough to have Dean in the same bed as him, cuddling up willingly. He was warm, and Castiel allowed himself to card his fingers through Dean's hair. He had imagined that Dean used gel to get it to stick up like it did, but it felt soft and clean in his hands.

Castiel bit back a groan. Here Dean was, in his arms. How easy would it be to explore Dean's skin, if only innocently? Press a chaste kiss to his cheek? He couldn't do that, he wouldn't. He was only in the bed because Dean asked him to be, kind of. Anything else was a violation.

Castiel stilled himself and eventually managed to relax into the mattress. With the smell of Dean in his nose, he fell asleep.

o o o

Castiel woke up slowly. He was first aware of how amazingly he slept. No nightmares, no restlessness... just sleep. He was then aware that there was a body next to him. And not just any body.

Dean's.

His eyelids flew open. Holy shit. He was pressed up against Dean's back, one arm draped around his torso and one under his head. Dean had stuck one leg back between Castiel's. They were tangled together, spooning.

Castiel was elated and completely freaked out. What did he do? Did he just go back to sleep and hope for the best? Try to move without waking Dean? Actually wake him up there? No no no, that would not happen.

Slowly, Castiel disentangled himself from the Winchester and pulled out a set of clothes, sneaking into the bathroom and turning the shower on cold. After the wakeup adrenaline wore off, Castiel discovered that he was hungover. That was a feeling he didn't miss.

Despite how cold the water was, Castiel could still feel Dean on him. He could remember perfectly how his head felt cradled in his arms, and how soft his hair was. He muffled a groan. Why did he let Dean pull him into bed? It was so much worse now. He'd cut off his left arm just to snuggle back up against the Winchester.

With a defeated sigh, Castiel warmed up the water and took care of himself silently.

He was out and dry and dressed in record time, shutting the door behind him to find Dean stretching. They made eye contact.

"Oh, morning Cas," Dean said in a sleep-gruff voice.

"Good morning, Dean," Castiel kept his tone polite, like he hadn't just jacked off in two minutes to the memory of _cuddling_ the man.

Dean grabbed his clothes from the previous night and headed towards the bathroom. "I'm just going to change and go get another key from downstairs," he called, shutting the door.

"Right, yes," Castiel mumbled, sitting down on the little couch. he sat awkwardly for a few minutes until Dean stepped out in rumpled dress clothes.

"Thanks for letting me stay," he gave Castiel a little smile. The older man wondered if he even remembered what happened.

"Of course," the Novak nodded, and Dean left the room.

Castiel packed up his things and watched some reality show on television until it was time to check out of the hotel.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** In this episode- Dean and Castiel learn a little something about each other.

 **Chapter Six**

Dean was more tired than Castiel thought he would be. On the flight home, he fell asleep almost immediately. Castiel tried not to observe him, but it brought up the memories from that morning, and he couldn't help the flashes of fantasy. Dean sleeping in his bed was a particular favorite of his, and it made something clench in his chest.

For the first time in a long time, Castiel took a sleeping pill to get through the flight. He loved flying, the Air Force had been his dream, but this time, he longed for the ground. He needed a little bit of time to think, some time away from the cloud of happy hope that Dean brought over him.

They touched down and he said only a few words to Dean while waiting for the cars. Dean was quiet... Maybe he remembered last night. The Novak wondered if he was quiet because he felt awkward or uncomfortable around him now.

This is why Castiel was so wary of things like this. He had a taste of Dean, even if the taste was only holding him in his arms, fully clothed, for a few hours. That little bit increased his longing tenfold, and even now his hand itched to take Dean's in his.

A car pulled up and Dean motioned to it. "This one's for you, Cas," he gave him a little smile.

"Oh, you take this one Dean," Castiel stepped back.

"Nah, it's cool, I have another ride coming." Dean checked his watch. "Maybe."

Castiel's mouth opened and he knew he was going to say something without thinking. "We can just share this one."

Dean blinked at him. "Okay."

Maybe he wasn't used to having things shared with him, like the room and the car. The driver made to load their luggage in the back, but Dean picked up his suitcase easily. "I got it," Castiel heard him say. The driver smiled and loaded Castiel's, who had paused to admire the ease of which Dean lifted the heavy objects.

The inside of the car was a little bit like the inside of the elevator, but less charged with the driver in the front. They both sat in the back, looking out the windows. There was only six inches between their hands, and Castiel wanted to curl his fingers in Dean's like he curled them into his hair.

Dean had showered before they left, obviously, but Castiel could now detect the scent of mint from the hotel shampoo and the ever present spice and leather that clung to him. With a tiny side glance, Castiel could see Dean fiddling with a button of his shirt.

"Where to?" the driver asked, breaking the silent spell. Dean said nothing, so Castiel gave him the address, and they were off.

"What did you think of the convention?" Castiel found himself asking. He didn't like this silence, it wasn't comfortable like their other ones.

"It was... interesting," Dean shrugged a little. "Not anything like I expected."

"We won't be going to another for a long time. I dislike conventions." He said the last part to himself, but Dean still heard.

"Were you forced to go or something? The only people you ever smiled for there were Balthazar and Charlie," Dean peered over at the older man.

 _And you,_ Castiel finished mentally. "I just needed a little time out of South Dakota, and this was available." Not a lie. Dean nodded and sat back. "Charlie and Balthazar like you," he added.

Dean looked back at him and grinned. "Really?"

The corners of Castiel's mouth quirked up. He loved Dean's smiles. "Yes, they were quite taken with you."

"They're pretty great. You sounded like you had fun in college."

Castiel chuckled. The reasons why weren't great, but he did enjoy his time there.

It was then that his phone buzzed. He clicked his closest brother's name. "Gabriel?"

"They're not gone yet," the man sounded out of breath. "Michael says he wants to see you and Dad won't leave without him. I'm _this close_ to throwing punches, I swear to god."

Castiel felt the blood drain from his face. He refused to be within one hundred yards of them. "Dean, please tell the driver your address now," the Novak said as calmly as he could.

Dean looked worried, but didn't comment. He told the driver his address. "I just need thirty more minutes, then I'll resort to threats. I'll call you when it's safe," Gabriel hung up, and Castiel put his phone in his jacket pocket quietly.

There was a moment of silence, Castiel's head riddled with memories and panic, wondering if he could hold his own if it came to physical violence. Again.

There was a warm hand on his arm, and he turned slightly startled eyes to Dean. His green ones were filled with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Castiel gave a short nod, and Dean raised his eyebrows. He saw right through it. "I will be," Castiel said firmly, and Dean seemed to accept that. He removed his hand, which Castiel missed, but kept it a little closer between them.

The driver drove a little under ten miles from Castiel's house to a nice looking apartment building. It was lightly sprinkling now, and Castiel got out of the car wordlessly to help Dean with his bags, even though the younger man insisted that he got them.

"You sure you're okay?" Dean asked cautiously, bags standing nearly forgotten at his side.

Castiel sighed. "Just some unwanted visitors. I've been assured that they'll be gone soon."

Dean looked up at the tall apartment building behind him. "You could stay with me, if you need to," he said somewhat shyly.

Castiel's heart leapt into his throat. That would be an ideal situation... But he couldn't. He needed to have some sort of control over himself. It sounded so nice though.

Instead, he gave Dean a little smile. "I appreciate the offer very much, but I sadly have a lot of work to do before tomorrow. Two meetings to prepare for, as you probably know."

Dean chuckled, thinking of the huge boxes of Castiel's papers and all the files no doubt on his computer. "At least let me know when you're home safe, okay?"

The Winchester looked so concerned and sincere, and Castiel melted a little. "I will." _This is the part where you kiss him good night,_ his brain supplied unhelpfully. He nodded, and Dean nodded. When the eye contact was severed, Castiel fell back into the car.

He watched Dean until the door to the building swung shut, then asked the driver to continue on.

Castiel was about to ask the driver to drop him off at the nearest cafe when Gabriel called. "All clear," he confirmed. "I'm the only one out here."

"I'll be there shortly," Castiel sighed into the phone, relieved.

Gabriel looked somber when Castiel pulled up. They unloaded his bags quietly and the younger Novak unlocked the door and turned on the lights.

Castiel's home was his sacred space. Not even Anna had stepped foot inside, only Gabriel. He was the only one that deserved to. The foyer was wide and open, leading into a sparsely decorated living room. Castiel was proud of the designs; the hardwood floors, soothing taupe colored walls, and assorted comfortable furniture made his home feel serene and safe. It was sparse, but well loved.

The kitchen was also a lovely space, but the only thing in it that Castiel was interested in right then was the bottle of whiskey sitting primly on his counter. "Did you resort to threats?" Castiel asked, pouring Gabriel and himself a generous glass.

"I... insinuated," he settled on.

Castiel turned on his automatic fireplace, wishing for once that he could make one himself, with real wood and hard work. No matter. The brothers sat on Castiel's gray couch together, sipping their whiskeys and staring into the flames. Castiel didn't cry, but Gabriel put his arm around the taller man all the same.

"I'm in over my head," Castiel whispered. "With everything."

"I'm here for you," was all Gabriel said. He was the only one that really understood how to Deal with Castiel like this. He didn't question his emotions or tell him what he should think or press him for every detail. He didn't shame him or tell him that it was years ago, get over it. He sat there, lending support, and that's really the only thing that Castiel could ask for.

He couldn't tell Gabriel about his deepening emotions for Dean. He couldn't tell him how waking up with the Winchester in his arms was the happiest moment of his life, or that when he smiled at Castiel, he thought his heart was going to beat right through his chest. Gabriel would tell him that he deserved to be with Dean, even if he knew he didn't.

He had made a promise to Dean, though. When Gabriel had left and Castiel lay thinking in his bed, he pulled out his phone and scrolled to Dean's name.

 _Castiel: I am home safely._

He sent the message before he could over-analyze it, and the little typing bubble popped up immediately.

 _Dean: Good, I was starting to worry haha_

Castiel smiled at Dean's concern, then the typing bubble appeared again.

 _Dean: Lemme know if you want to talk about whatevers happening, k?_

Castiel snuggled down into his sheets, a warm wave washing over him.

 _Castiel: You will be the first person I come to._

 _Dean: Good :)_

The smiley face sent a weird little rush through Castiel, as if he were a teenager again. The feeling was not unwelcome.

 _Castiel: I will see you tomorrow morning._

 _Dean: Gocha. Sweet dreams Cas_

 _Castiel: Sweet dreams to you as well, Dean._

He was smiling. His lips turned upwards without him even knowing. Castiel put his phone on his bedside table and snuggled down into his nest, sighing contently. How strange it was that only a few typed sentences from Dean could make all of his pent-up anxiety vanish.

He fell asleep quickly, stifling his conflicting thoughts about the absence of Dean.

o o o

The next few days went by without a hitch. Dean was the perfect personal assistant, always on top of everything, with every detail of Castiel's life memorized. Castiel had never been so efficient with his work.

He was pretty sure Dean was flirting with him too. The man would find every excuse to come in to his office, laughing at his terrible jokes and touching his arm or shoulder. He told Castiel more stories about himself, like how he got that jagged scar on his arm from jumping off the roof when he was twelve to prove that he was Batman, or how he learned how to grill the perfect burger from a mute Chinese man down the street.

In return, Castiel admitted that the extent of his culinary knowledge was making pasta with store bought sauce, and he frequently leaned closely over Dean to read something he had pointed out on his laptop. He knew he shouldn't be encouraging any of these flirtations, let alone initiating them, but his control was growing weaker and weaker.

It was about a week later that Dean came bursting into his office. "Can we use company funds for technically company-related things?" he said, out of breath.

Castiel looked at him, wide-eyed. "Yes, why-?"

"Thanks!" Dean ran back out the door, grabbing his coat. Castiel was truly perplexed, until Dean returned an hour and a half later.

"Cas, I've officially brought you into the twenty-first century. You're welcome." He stood proudly in front of three ransacked apple store bags.

"I- I do not understand," he stuttered.

"I'll explain then." He grabbed Castiel's hand and led him to one of the chairs in the corner of the office. Castiel went, focus immediately zeroing in on the feeling of Dean's hand. It was soft and warm. The voice in his head that told him not to touch was getting fainter and fainter.

When Castiel slumped into a chair, Dean carefully arranged an array of products in front of him. He began to explain what they were, and how he was going to transfer information onto them and they would all update together because of clouds or something. Castiel was too busy admiring the light in Dean's eyes when he talked animatedly.

"Got it?" he asked.

Castiel had barely heard a word. "You will probably have to explain it to me several more times," the corners of his mouth quirked up and Dean laughed.

He sat at Castiel's desk with his laptop, Castiel's laptop, two iPads, one of which was attached to a land line phone, and both of their cell phones. He typed away, prodding the screens with perhaps more force than necessary. "Sammy could do this so much faster," he muttered at one point. Castiel had dragged up a shorter chair from the corner of the room, content to sit and watch.

It was then that the work phone rang, 'Caller Unknown' popping up on the iPad's screen. Dean picked it up diligently. "Castiel Novak's office."

Dean glanced at Castiel. "Let me see if he's available." He put the phone to his chest and mouthed, "It's your father."

Castiel's eyes widened and he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Novak is busy at the moment. Can I take a message?" He listened for a few seconds. "His schedule is very full. I can relay a message for you, and that's about it." A cold edge crept into his voice at the end. "I'm aware sir, but- Could you just- No, I'm really-" After another few seconds, Dean pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. "He hung up on me."

Castiel sat back, overwhelmingly glad that Dean saved him from that conversation. He almost didn't want to ask, but he had to. "What did he want?"

"He said to tell you that he wanted to talk. He was," Dean huffed, "annoyingly persistent."

"Oh," Castiel said quietly.

They stared at each other for a few seconds. "Remember how I said I was here if you wanted to talk?" Dean looked at him earnestly.

Castiel nodded. He may as well get a little bit of it off his shoulders. That way, Dean will be prepared the next time he called. "I... don't have a very good relationship with my father," he looked at his hands, clasped tightly in his lap. "I had a painful childhood, in a literal sense." He peered up at Dean, as if he were an angel on judgement day.

Dean looked... sympathetic? "I know what you mean, actually," he said softly. When Castiel tilted his head in confusion, Dean went on. "If you mean what I think you mean, I got the same treatment. Didn't matter if what I did was my fault, he'd hit me all the same."

Castiel let out a huge breath, simultaneously relieved and angered. He was one thing, but Dean? Why on Earth would anyone think of hurting Dean? The Winchester must have understood the look on his face. "It's okay, you can ask. I made peace with it a long time ago."

Maybe if he heard Dean's story, he could work up the courage to share his own. "When did it start?" he asked.

"I guess... I guess it really started when my mom died. I was four." Castiel remained silent. "It was kinda my fault she died. I left the stove on, and something caught fire. In the end, I got Sam out the door, but my dad couldn't get her. And he was never the same. Started drinking." Dean shifted in his seat. "It wasn't physical after that, not for a few years. Just verbal. The physical stuff really started when I was about ten." Dean was quiet for a second. "He blamed me. And I took it, because it was my fault."

Castiel felt a huge knot in his chest. He knew the words that always came next, _I'm sorry._ But those kinds of apologies are always empty words, substitutes for real sympathy because they just couldn't relate.

Castiel did what he knew, and nudged his fingers over Dean's. The Winchester gave him a little smile and twined the fingers together. "Your turn?" he asked rather than said.

The Novak sucked in a breath. "I don't remember when it started. It had just always happened. My mother died in childbirth with me, her youngest, and my father blamed me as well." The words rushed out of him all at once. "He was a neglectful man, and when he noticed me, he treated me roughly. If anything went wrong in his life, he would take it out on me. Sometimes he didn't even have a reason. I think he just found it fun." Castiel stopped. This was just about fathers. He was most definitely _not_ going to tell Dean about Michael.

"I'm assuming it stopped?" Castiel redirected the conversation at Dean.

The Winchester cleared his throat. "Yeah, it did when I was nineteen. He died."

Castiel's mouth open and closed wordlessly. _I'm sorry_ sat at the tip of his tongue again, but he swallowed it down. Wrong words. And he wasn't even sure if he was sorry that a man who would hurt Dean was gone.

"You?" Dean asked.

Castiel stared at him for a long moment. "I..." How did he say it? "I don't know if it has stopped, actually."

It was Dean's turn to utter a little, "Oh."

"I haven't seen him in seven years now, despite how often he attempts contact, and our last meeting came to blows. It was a terrible Christmas."

Dean's fingers tightened in Castiel's. They sat there for a long moment. "I guess we have more in common than we thought," he chuckled darkly. After a few moments of companionable silence, something beeped on one of the laptops.

"Okay, so that mean's everything's synced into the Cloud. Remember iCloud? So now when you do this..." Dean and Castiel dropped the subjects of the past in favor of figuring out the technology of the future. If they sat a little closer or had a little more intense eye contact, well, that was just a coincidence.

 **A/N:** Reviews are love!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Hi guys! I want to make sure I'm not losing anyone here. Is this stuff okay? Is there anything anyone predicts will happen? I'm not quite done writing yet, so if you want to see something happen in this, let me know in case I have room for it!

Now, in this episode- the smut arrives! Yay!

 **Chapter Seven**

Several more days passed and Castiel was pulled farther and farther into Dean's spell. He found himself marveling at how amazing Dean was multiple times a day, in multiple ways. He was so self-deprecating, but incredibly smart. He was attentive, but independent. He was open and honest with Castiel, and the Novak was starting to forget why he was resisting at all.

It was the next Tuesday that Dean announced that they were going to have to work late.

"I found all your handwritten files," he stared at Castiel, who raised an eyebrow.

"Well done?" he asked more than stated. What did this mean?

Dean huffed. "Let me rephrase that. I found eight years worth of handwritten stuff that needs to be put on a computer."

Castiel slumped in his chair. "Really?" He didn't have anything to do that evening, but it sounded like _hours_ of work.

Dean rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. Two questions: do you have whiskey, and when is it appropriate to start drinking?"

Castiel chuckled and handed Dean his card with the order to get whatever he wanted for dinner and bring back a good bottle. Dean brought back two gigantic bacon cheeseburgers and a large bottle of twelve year old Bulleit Rye. Dean held up the bag and the bottle, and Castiel groaned in appreciation.

It took a full hour to haul every box of paper from a storage room on the floor below. Castiel could have asked some of his employees for more help, but he didn't. Maybe it was the thought of taking on a big project with only Dean that drove him to push on, and he didn't mind the physical work.

Every last box was up in Castiel's office nearly an hour later, and employees were starting to leave for the day. Dean, however, was just settling in with his burger, a spot for Castiel set up on the chair next to him.

"This is an excellent cheeseburger," Castiel commented around a mouthful of meat, bread, and toppings. "Where did you get it?"

"Roadhouse," Dean swallowed thickly. "Wait til you taste the whiskey."

They got to work, sorting through what seemed to be every piece of paper Castiel ever owned. They worked, but they also talked. And laughed. Castiel didn't even have a whole glass of whiskey in him, but he felt pleasantly warm.

He had shed his jacket and removed his blue tie. Dean's jacket was off and his tie was gone, thrown somewhere along with his jacket. His sleeves were rolled up, wonderfully toned forearms working to move stacks of paper and boxes. They had been playing that stupid question game again, and Castiel was ridiculously pleased about it.

"Tell me about your last relationship," Dean asked him.

Castiel actually had to think hard about that. "The last _real_ relationship... Oh, that would be Ezekiel." Castiel spoke his thoughts aloud. "I was just out of grad school, and he interned at the firm I'd just been hired in. Lasted about seven months, I think." His relationship attempts had been pitiful. Ezekiel had been nearly ten years ago. A whole decade, and none of his potential partners ever amounted to anything. That's why he'd stopped looking.

"A while, huh?" Dean sipped his own whiskey, nodding.

"And yourself, Dean?" Castiel asked, curious.

Dean colored a little, and not from the one glass of whiskey he'd had. "I, uh, I dated a girl named Lisa my junior year of high school."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "Is your preference of men a recent thing?"

Dean set his glass down and leaned back in his chair. "No, I just... I didn't think it would be best if my dad knew."

Castiel offered him a sympathetic smile. If only he'd been able to keep quiet like Dean. "And after your father died? Did you not find anyone to pursue?"

Dean gave a nervous chuckle and averted his eyes. "I actually haven't ever been with a guy. You know. In that way."

Oh. _Oh._ Castiel's lips parted in shock, and he could almost feel his pupils dilate. So, in that sense, Dean was a virgin. Fuck. The images that assaulted his head were dizzying, nearly making his knees buckle.

He decided it would be best to sit on the floor now. Dean had never been with a man. Never given a blowjob, didn't know what it felt like to be opened up and filled until he thought he might rip in two- God dammit.

Castiel was sure that Dean could read his every thought as it passed over his face, but the younger man didn't seem afraid or uncomfortable. He just looked at Castiel with a little half smile on his face.

After a second, Dean hefted a box of papers in his hands and stood, probably going to take it across the room. Instead, he slipped on a few stray sheets and fell directly to the ground. The papers fluttered up and Dean sat on the ground, his lips in a surprised 'o'.

Castiel couldn't help it- he burst out laughing. So hard, in fact, that he tipped over to the ground. Dean begun to laugh too, and somehow they were next to each other, sides pressed together. Castiel turned and stopped laughing.

He and Dean were horizontal. He was propped up next to Dean's prone form, the man staring up at him with something akin to awe in his eyes.

Castiel was barely aware that one of his hands had come up to rest comfortably on Dean's stomach. He barely registered that their faces were mere inches apart. All he knew was the heat radiating between them and the ache that could only be soothed by Dean.

Dean's pillowy lips were parted and his pupils blown wide. His green eyes, beautiful emeralds and hunter and gold, darted down to Castiel's lips. Had he licked them? He wouldn't be surprised. Dean's hand came up to rest on Castiel's bicep, fingers firm.

"Dean," Castiel breathed. He didn't have anything to follow that with. He was just saying that beautiful name. Dean.

"Kiss me," Dean commanded. Castiel heard the two words and something inside him snapped.

It was instantaneous. Castiel's lips were on his and it was _glorious_. His mouth moulded around the Novak's, insistent. Dean was making these beautiful breathy sighs and Castiel drank them down like water in the desert. He could feel his own unconscious humming reverberate in his chest.

Kissing Dean was like stepping foot in a beautiful chapel, if he were as devout as he was to Dean. It filled him with a tingling sun-warmth presence that trickled down all the way to his toes. His hand slid from Dean's stomach to his hip, and Dean pulled at the front of his shirt, fabric gripped firmly in one hand. His knee rested between Dean's legs and he let a bit of his weight press onto the man beneath him.

 _If I'm a pagan of the good times_ _, my_ _lover's the sunlight._

Dean arched into him. He tightened his grip on Castiel's shirt and slid his other hand into his messy black hair, fingers tangling desperately.

Castiel slid his tongue along the seam of Dean's lips and the Winchester accepted it eagerly into his mouth. Dean tasted even more amazing than Castiel fantasized about. He was all whiskey and honey and spice and _something_ that made Castiel's head spin. If he could bottle the taste of Dean and sell it, he'd make billions, but he wanted it all to himself.

Dean nipped at his bottom lip and Castiel groaned, letting more of his weight fall on top of Dean. The younger man's hips were pushing into his thigh, a diamond-hard length rubbing almost painfully against the layers of fabric separating them. Castiel flexed his own hips, showing Dean just how much he had affected him as well.

Dean made a noise low in his throat and began to squirm against the Novak, frantically searching for more friction. Castiel pulled Dean flush against him, manhandling the man until he could stand, the Winchester clinging to him.

Castiel managed a few steps before sitting back into the cushioned chair, pulling Dean firmly into his lap. Dean broke away from Castiel's lips, and the Novak almost seized up in panic. Thankfully, Dean reattached his lips to the juncture between Castiel's neck and shoulder, hot tongue flicking against the thin skin. Castiel let out a rumbling groan, thankful that the building was empty now.

Dean shifted forward into his lap, bringing their matching erections together. Dean grunted into the Novak's neck. It was then that he realized that there was that whole expanse of skin that Castiel hadn't explored before, and with little preamble, he pulled the end of Dean's shirt out of his slacks.

Dean's skin was so soft and warm, stretching wonderfully over built muscle. Castiel felt it shift and jump under his palms as he mapped out every inch of Dean's back. The Winchester leaned back, hands flying to the buttons of Castiel's shirt. He was surprised at the deftness of Dean's fingers; in seconds, his shirt was wide open with Dean's exploring hands everywhere.

Castiel was quick to mirror Dean, undoing his buttons with a ferocity he didn't know he had. Dean's toned abs were revealed and Castiel pressed his fingers into him, enjoying the hitch in Dean's breathing. He was burning hot and Castiel mouthed at his neck, drinking in his taste.

 _My church offers no absolutes, she tells me 'worship in the bedroom'._

He nipped and sucked and licked his way along Dean's clavicle, relishing in his breathy moans. On a whim, he pulled Dean further into him and bent his head to flick his tongue against Dean's pebbled nipple. The responding "Aaah!" spurred him on, sucking the pink flesh into his mouth. His teeth grazed over it, and Dean whimpered.

Castiel offered the other nipple to the same treatment, only breaking contact when Dean rutted against him. "Cas," he groaned. "I need..."

"What do you need, Dean?" he growled, gripping Dean's hips tightly and rolling his own against them.

"I, fuck, I need you," he panted, threading his fingers through the Novak's dark locks.

Their mouths collided again, Castiel's tongue mapping Dean's mouth. If there was one thing Castiel do it was multitask. His hands slid down Dean's chiseled torso to his belt buckle. Slowly, so Dean could move away if he wanted to, Castiel freed the leather and popped the button, tracing the bits of skin revealed.

Dean rutted forward, and Castiel finally pulled the zipper down, relieving the building pressure. He palmed Dean through the thin line of his briefs and swallowed the wanton moans the action drew out of him.

"You too," he mumbled, his grip on Castiel's hair the only thing anchoring him.

Castiel quickly undid his own belt and slacks, going so far as to free himself from the confines of his underwear. Dean rolled his hips against him again, and Castiel gasped, the contact so much better than he imagined, even if it was still through a layer of fabric.

His hand slipped into Dean's briefs and grasped his length firmly. The reaction was perfect- Dean arched towards him with a whimper, biting down on Castiel's lip. Castiel felt his moan vibrate in his chest.

 _There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin._

Castiel wanted to taste Dean, but there was no time, only need. He pulled Dean completely free of the fabric and circled both of their impressive lengths in one hand, the friction sending sparks up his spine.

"Fuck," Dean choked, bucking up into Castiel's hand.

There was enough precome dripping between the two of them to ease the slide of Castiel's fist. He started the pace slow, but he knew it wouldn't last long.

"God fuck Cas," Dean babbled, burying his head into the Novak's neck.

"Dean," Cas drew out the syllable, twisting his hand on the upstroke.

His movements sped up rapidly, Castiel mouthing at the muscle of Dean's shoulder. "I can't... Cas..." Dean's voice was almost pained with need.

Castiel snuck his hand down from Dean's waist in between his cheeks, brushing lightly at his furled entrance. "Come for me, Dean," Castiel growled, and Dean complied with a muffled shout, vibrating with his release.

The pulsing of Dean's length and knowledge that he was the first one that had ever touched Dean in such an intimate place send him over the edge, his very skin lit on fire with the force of his pleasure.

They came down slowly, and Dean leaned his forehead against Castiel's. They were silent for several long moments. "Wanted this for so long," Dean murmured, kissing Castiel gently.

The Novak stroked Dean's jaw with his clean hand, enjoying the moment for as long as he could. Dean was boneless against him, just really sliding his lips over Castiel's, not even a kiss. Just contact. Intimacy.

Castiel had never felt so whole in his entire life. He felt as if in that moment, his spirit was unblemished, absolved of all sins by this perfect man petting the hair at the nape of his neck.

 _I was born sick, but I love it._

A painful edge moved through Castiel's sated haze. They couldn't do this again. There were so many reasons why they couldn't. And honestly, no matter how Dean made him feel, his sins could never be absolved. His spirit would remain blemished forever, and Dean didn't deserve that. He should be with someone just as bright and strong as he is.

Castiel let out a slow breath. At least Dean had a good first experience. He could at least give him that- a good memory to build his future encounters on.

He soaked in the feeling of Dean in his arms for as long as he could before pulling away from the kiss. He memorized Dean's face then, how it looked full of contentment and affection. He memorized that look given to _him_. He moved his thumb across Dean's bottom lip, which parted automatically. He gave Castiel an easy smile, but the Novak's face remained impassive.

Dean's brows furrowed, and Castiel dropped his hand. "We should get cleaned up," he said quietly, glancing at the sticky mess on their stomachs.

Dean was still giving him a confused look, a tiny bit of hurt on his features, but Castiel ignored the sharp pang of sadness and guilt in his chest.

When they were sure the coast was clear, the two slipped into the men's restroom and washed off as best they could, donning their shirts quickly. The mess of papers on Castiel's floor was forgotten, and they both walked silently to the parking garage with their belongings.

It came time for them to go to their separate cars, and Dean turned to Castiel.

"Cas-"

"I will see you tomorrow," Castiel cut him off.

Dean recoiled, as if Castiel had slapped him. The Novak forced his features to remain impassive, even though he could feel the warm sting behind his eyes. He turned quickly, offering Dean no good night as he always did. He couldn't, he just couldn't.

He slid into the front seat of his Corolla and turned over the engine, but didn't move to drive away. It wasn't until he heard the roar of Dean's Impala fade into the distance that he buckled his seatbelt and shifted in reverse.

 _Offer me that deathless death, good god, let me give you my life._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Thank you to Tari4078, dewdiamonds, MimiDuJour, lesipiratecat, and AM for the reviews! No matter how cruel I am, I still love the comments.

To those who talked about feels… hang on to your seats. In this episode: all secrets are revealed. Enjoy!

 **Chapter Eight**

Castiel didn't remember much the rest of the night, just that he made it home in one piece and drank enough to sleep without dreaming. He woke with minor physical pain, but that was the least of his worries.

It was Wednesday now, and he had to get up and go to work and be Dean's boss. He had to look that man in the eyes and pretend like everything was okay. Maybe the subject wouldn't even come up.

Castiel arrived at the office an hour earlier than usual. He cleaned up all the fallen papers and began typing up the sorted ones.

He heard Dean come in at the usual time and set all his things down. He focused on typing. _Knock, knock._

"Come in," Castiel called, though he already knew it was Dean. He kept his face firmly fixed to the screen in front of him.

Through his peripherals, he saw the younger man walk in somewhat nervously. He was silent, typing away, but he wasn't focusing on the right words. "Cas," Dean said, voice faking as much confidence as it could.

"Yes?" Castiel's eyes never left his computer.

There was a long pause before Dean's shoulders sagged. "I'll type up the rest of those. It's my job."

Castiel gestured to a box on one of the chairs, the one he could never sit on again. Dean picked it up and stood there, presumably looking at Castiel. He pretended to examine one of the papers and continue typing, though it was all gibberish now.

Without another word, Dean left the room.

The second the door closed, Castiel slumped down in his chair, hands pressing into his eyes until he saw spots. His throat was tight and his chest burned unpleasantly. Was this what it would feel like forever now? Would this depressing desperation fade with time? He was pretty sure the answer was no.

The rest of the day was painful, to say the least. Dean accompanied Castiel to his two meetings and announced his laundry list of duties for the rest of the week, and in return Castiel made little eye contact and gave monosyllabic answers. He knew that he was being a complete jackass, but he couldn't take much more contact. The few times he glanced up into Dean's eyes, his heart clenched with the look of pleading and hurt and confusion there.

They parted ways at the end of the day with a mumbled "Good bye" and a curt nod.

Thursday Dean was angry.

He prodded the keys of his laptop as if they had personally offended him. His knock on Castiel's door to indicate a visitor was far too sharp, and the only times he looked at the older man was with burning eyes and a clenched jaw.

Friday, Dean was resigned.

He didn't walk into Castiel's office. "Your board meeting is in ten minutes," he said quietly into the phone's little intercom before hanging up. He sat unobtrusively in the corner and took notes without the cute little comments. He even requested permission to leave a little early.

Castiel granted it, though he didn't know what it was for.

He planned to figure out how to continue on that weekend. He would give Gabriel all of his alcohol, and his credit cards, and his keys, just to hold for two days. He would work and clean and run and scrub his skin raw and do _something_ to make him feel like he was doing the right thing, like he was worth something.

The sun was just setting when he dragged himself out of his office and to his car. He'd give Gabriel the alcohol tomorrow. Hopefully he wouldn't ask questions. He didn't want questions right now.

Castiel dropped his key fob into a cupholder and pressed the engine start button, but nothing happened. He frowned, and did it again. After several attempts, he knew what happened. The little light switch, though unlit, was set to on. His battery was dead.

Great. Just wonderful. The icing on top of the disappointment cake. After a moment with his forehead on the steering wheel, he called a tow truck. There was no one around to give him a jump.

He rode in the tow truck quietly, avoiding small talk with the driver. He lost track of time, so he didn't know when they arrived Singer Auto. It was dark and he was tired, and the bearded man at the front desk looked at him with sympathy.

"My battery is dead," Castiel explained. "I believe I need a new one."

"We can do that," the man gave him a smile. "Just wait here, won't take too long."

And then- "Bobby, can I just-" Dean came in from the back room and stopped, deer-in-the-headlights look clear on his face. Castiel must have looked the same way. Why was Dean here, in an auto shop? Had he left work early to work here? He wore ripped jeans and a t-shirt, but it wasn't dirty, so he wasn't working.

"Never mind," Dean muttered, but didn't move. The word snapped Castiel out of his stupor, and he looked down as Bobby left the room.

A silent moment stretched between the two. "We need to talk, Cas," Dean said quietly.

"Dean-"

"No," he cut Castiel off, firmly this time. "We're going to talk about this shit. Come on." And Dean let himself out the side door.

With a sigh, Castiel followed him. They walked out into the junkyard, out of hearing range of the shop. Without warning, Dean whipped around, staring intently at the Novak. "Well?" he demanded. Castiel blinked owlishly at him. Dean huffed. "You mind telling me what the hell has been going on the past few days?"

Castiel rubbed his hands together. "I don't..." he looked up at Dean, who was giving him the 'no bullshit' look. Castiel swallowed thickly. "I must apologize for Tuesday. I should not have done... what I did, and I am sorry."

Dean's jaw dropped open. "Sorry? Why would you be sorry?"

Castiel's brow furrowed. "I... We can't be together, Dean."

Dean crossed his arms. "Why the hell not?"

Castiel motioned vaguely at the Winchester. "There is such an age gap between us-"

"Not good enough," Dean retorted instantly.

Something twinged in Castiel's chest. "I can't be with an employee-"

"Not good enough," he grit his teeth.

"You deserve better," Castiel dropped his eyes. There. That was more than good enough.

Dean uncrossed his arms. "What does that mean?" he almost growled.

Castiel sighed. "It means you deserve better. Someone better than me. I'm not worthy, I'm not..." Castiel choked back the overwhelming swell of emotion. "You are still clean, Dean, and I'm tarnished. I refuse to drag you down with me."

Dean's fists balled up. "You're not tarnished, Cas."

"I am!" Castiel's voice rose. "Don't you get it? You have years before you have to settle down, and you should spend them finding someone without all the baggage I carry. I will weigh you down, Dean. I'll weigh you down and take all your youth and when you finally realize that I'm too damaged to repair, you'll have wasted your best years on me." Castiel took a shuddering breath, blood rushing in his ears. "We can't be together because I refuse to ruin your life."

"That is a hot load of bullshit," Dean's voice was hard, and he stepped forward. "Ever thought that I want to take on your baggage? Huh? Did you ever think that maybe I'd given up my youth a long time ago? Did you stop for one _second_ and think that what we did a few days ago ruined me for anyone else I could _ever_ hope to find?" Dean's eyes were burning, but with passion rather than anger. "Take me off that fucking pedestal, Cas."

Castiel's fingers pulled at his own hair. "You just don't understand-"

"Then make me understand!" he shouted. "Tell me what happened to make you think like this! Because you're damn wrong about everything you've said tonight and I need to know why."

"You want to know why I'm so tarnished?" Castiel wasn't completely in his right mind at that point, but maybe if he spelled it out for Dean, he'd finally get it. "I told you about my father, how he abused me my whole life. We were religious, and I was the abomination. Because I like men, I was going to hell. He told me I couldn't be saved, and he'd beat me until I couldn't move. But the worst part-" Castiel's fingernails dug into his palms, "the worst part is what my brother would do afterwords. Michael would drag me up to his room after my dad left and he'd rape me while I was too weak to fight back."

Dean's eyes widened, and it fueled Castiel's fire. "That started when I was thirteen. _Thirteen_. And if I struggled, if I made one sound of protest, he'd talk with my father and the whole process would repeat again. He'd fuck me and wipe away my tears and tell me that I _deserved_ it, that I was unclean to begin with and this was some sort of _repentance_ to work off my sins. _He's_ the one who told the Air Force recruiter about me, and I didn't fight back. He and my father are the reason we went to Baltimore, and the reason I couldn't go to my own fucking house until Gabriel threatened to call the cops if they didn't leave.

"My mother died giving birth to me. My father beat me, my brother raped me, my sister did nothing, and no one would listen to Gabriel. That is my baggage, Dean, it's something I can never come back from. I can't, Dean, I can't, I can't..."

Castiel was unaware that tears had begun to fall. He was unaware that he had sunk to his knees until they hit the rough pavement. His head bowed before Dean, the moon shining behind his head like a halo. "You deserve so much more than me."

Dean was quiet for a long moment, but Castiel kept his head down. He didn't want to see Dean's back when he turned to walk away.

Instead, his scuffed boots appeared on the ground right in front of him. "You think I'm clean, huh?" Dean said a moment later. Castiel said nothing. "Get up," Dean commanded.

Castiel did, numbly. So he wouldn't just walk away. He didn't peg Dean for the kind of guy that would pile more hurt on, but he deserved it. He didn't have enough restraint, he couldn't have done the right fucking thing for once. "Look at me," Dean's voice was soft.

His blue eyes met the pools of green and gold, their color not dimmed by the darkness in the slightest. Castiel couldn't quite read his expression, but there was no malice in it. "Now it's time for you to understand why none of that matters." Castiel made to contradict him, but Dean held up a hand. "Shut up, you had your turn."

The Winchester took a deep breath. "When I was little, I started the fire that killed my mother, I told you that already. If I wasn't here, she'd still be alive. Sam would have had both parents raising him, and my dad would have never started drinking, and he probably wouldn't have wrecked his car. He'd be alive. So it's my fault my parents are dead, basically. You were hit for _who you are_ , you didn't deserve it. I was hit for _what I did_ , that's why I did deserve it. And my dad reminded me every day since I was four just how much I deserved it.

"Not only did I indirectly kill my parents, but when my dad didn't leave us enough money for food, I'd steal some. I stole whenever I got the chance, and I gave most of it to Sammy, because at least he could grow up to be big and strong and make something of himself." Dean's voice grew softer at this. "I took all his drunk beatings because my dad was coming at him when he was _six years old_ and didn't understand why he was angry. I took it all, because I thought I deserved that. I raised Sammy, tried to be his mom and dad, because he was the only thing I had left. And I knew that one day, he'd grow up and leave me for better things, and I encouraged it, because then he'd at least be happy. I gave up my childhood a long time ago, Cas. I didn't ever really have one to begin with." He took a much needed gulp of air.

"And you," he chuckled humorlessly. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I was pining for you before you even knew my name. God, Cas, _you're_ the one who doesn't understand. You do so much for everyone else, and you never ask for anything in return. These few weeks I've been around you I've smiled more than I have in my entire life. And on Tuesday..." Dean ran a hand through his hair, almost embarrassed. "Tuesday was the best day of my life. No one, and I mean no one, has ever looked at me like you did. You looked at me like I was worth something, and then you pulled away. And that hurt more than any hit I've ever taken, because you're the best thing that's ever going to happen to me, and you will never convince me otherwise. I don't need to use my twenties to explore my options or some shit, because there's only one option I want."

Dean looked like he was fighting off tears now. "Point is, if you're tarnished, then I'm filthy. So don't you think that we are anything less than equals." Dean raised his chin. "The only way I will ever leave you is if you tell me that I mean nothing to you."

There was a long pause while Castiel's head reeled. Through all of that horrible shit Dean described, Castiel's reaction hadn't been to recoil. He just wanted to hold him and comfort him and tell him that he would protect him, that nothing bad would ever happen to him again. Is that what Dean thought of Castiel? It wasn't possible for Dean to feel that was about him, but he just told him he did. He sounded so passionate. There was zero room for doubt that Dean meant every word, and the thought that Castiel might mean something to someone, someone like Dean, was new and heady like too much whiskey. It was hard to process.

"Well? Do I mean nothing to you?" The hard edge to Dean's voice was gone, replaced with uncertainty and barely concealed panic.

"You mean everything to me," Castiel said.

Dean sighed in relief, and Castiel pulled the younger man to him. They stood there for a while, just holding each other in the chilly air. Castiel could feel Dean's fast heartbeat against his chest, and after a few minutes, it synced up with his.

A soft buzzing came from Dean's pocket. He was going to let it ring, but Castiel nodded at him to at least check who it was.

"Yeah?" Dean said evenly. Pause. "Okay." He then hung up. "Bobby says your car's ready."

They still didn't move. Dean buried his face into Castiel's neck, sighing contentedly against him. Castiel held him tightly around the waist, one hand coming up to card through his hair.

Castiel had not expected this to happen, not in a million years. But here Dean was, in his arms and outright will his feelings. The Novak squeezed him a little tighter. There was still something between them, regardless of how much of a jackass Castiel had been the past few days. Dean still wanted him, and god did Castiel want Dean. In every way.

"Dean?" Castiel murmured before his nerve fled.

"Hmm?"

"How would you feel about being in a relationship with me?"

Castiel could feel Dean grin against him. He pulled back to look at the older man, eyes glowing with happiness once again. "You askin'?"

Castiel couldn't help the matching smile spread across his face. He nodded.

Instead of words, Dean grabbed the back of Castiel's neck and kissed him. It was different from before. Not gentle, but not lusty either. Castiel poured all the emotions he felt into that kiss. It said _I'm sorry_ , and _Thank you,_ and _You are worthy,_ and _I am worthy_. It was a promise.

 **A/N:** Yay! Finally some happiness! 'Bout time, right? Just so whoever follows this story knows, I'll be on vacation for most of next week. This means that the next post will be late, because I'll be in international waters with no wifi. I promise that I'll update when I get back though. Til then, Happy Holidays. (:


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** To everyone following this fic, sorry for the wait. I'm now back from a cruise which did not have free wifi in the ship. To make up for that, here is a piece of real, genuine happiness. Finally. Enjoy!

 **Chapter Nine**

Eventually the two broke apart and walked back to the auto shop, hands clasped between them like lovesick teenagers.

The distance seemed much shorter than when they stormed out, and Bobby sat in the shop polishing some tool, a tire iron, maybe. When Castiel and Dean stepped through the door, the bearded man glanced down at their intertwined hands. Castiel didn't see the look Dean gave Bobby, but Bobby's face immediately softened.

"How much do I owe you?" Castiel asked, dropping Dean's hand to pull out his wallet.

"'S on me," the old man grunted. Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but Bobby held up a hand. "Really. Not get outta here."

"Hey Bobby, do you mind..." Dean gestured outside, and Bobby's eyebrows rose.

"Really?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah." After a second, Bobby nodded.

Castiel watched the exchange with mild confusion, but didn't ask. He was on cloud nine and wasn't ready to come down yet.

Dean followed him out of the shop and Castiel slipped an arm around his waist. He swallowed, unsure if he should voice what he was thinking. He did anyway, which happened a lot with Dean. "I think if you leave me now, I'll wake up tomorrow and think this was all a dream," he muttered.

Dean tried to hide his stupid smile. "If you're asking me to go home with you, I'm saying hell yes."

Castiel grinned, and they got settled into Castiel's Corolla. The engine started quietly. "Some day, I'll take you driving in my Baby," Dean murmured, tipping his head back against the seat. "She's the best car, no offense."

"None taken," Castiel smiled. There was a moment of silence. "Are you sure you're ready, Dean? I mean, for every aspect of a relationship?" he asked nervously.

Dean gave him a teasingly exasperated look. "I know I've never been with a guy before, other than Tuesday with you, but I think I've fantasized about you enough to be more than ready."

Castiel shivered at the thought of Dean sprawled in his bed, hand wrapped around his aching length and Castiel's name on his lips. "I'm glad," was all that came out. He needed to control himself so they wouldn't crash.

He turned on the radio to calm them both, and that song came on. " _Command me to be well_ _. Aaay. Amen. Amen. Amen."_

Dean snorted. "Overplayed," he muttered, but listened regardless.

He didn't know how long it took to get to his house, but he was suddenly standing at the door, twisting the key expertly in his hands, about to share his private space with Dean.

The second the front door was closed, Dean was on him, octopus-like limbs wrapping desperately around him. Castiel gave it back with all the force, but none of the urgency. If he was going to have Dean like this, he was going to do it the right way.

Dean whined as the Novak's hands caught both of his, pinning them securely to the door over his head. "Patience," he whispered, trailing his tongue down the shell of Dean's ear. The man was already shaking, and they didn't even have their shoes off.

When Dean stopped struggling for dominance, Castiel released his hands and put his own to better use. One toyed with the hem of his shirt, sliding his fingers teasingly along the stripe of skin exposed. The other tangled gently in the short golden hair, tilting Dean's head up for better access.

His lips tasted like some sort of foreign delicacy, sweet and new and addictive. Castiel pulled one between his teeth and rolled it delicately, tiny amounts of blood vessels bursting to swell, red and raw. He soothed the reddened skin with his tongue.

The inside of Dean's mouth was even more exciting than he remembered. His tongue was eager, even once he submitted to Castiel. It slid along his, brushing each taste bud with fire. Castiel's tongue glided over the roof of Dean's mouth, and the man gave a full body shudder.

This was different than Tuesday in the office. Castiel needed to explore every centimeter of Dean's skin, discover every dip and line. He was going to unravel this man, tear his being apart and remake him with his touch. But they needed to be horizontal for that to happen.

Castiel's hands palmed at Dean's denim-clad ass and the man pushed back into them, but Castiel had other plans. His hands dipped lower, to the back of his thighs, and he hoisted the Winchester up into his arms. Dean squeaked in surprise, but wrapped his legs around Castiel's waist all the same.

Somehow, Castiel made it to his bedroom without pushing Dean against the wall and rutting against him until they both exploded. He set Dean down on his feet, and the green-eyed man's hands clenched and unclenched, as if looking for something to do. Dean was obviously not used to being manhandled, but it was also obvious that he enjoyed it very much.

After a moment, Dean toed off his boots and began to lift up his shirt. Castiel batted his hands away. "Let me," he nipped Dean's ear and the younger man's hands fell away with a shudder. Castiel took his time pushing the fabric up his body, running his hands along the uncovered skin and pressing gentle kisses to Dean's jaw as he did so.

The shirt slid off Dean's back, revealing his unbelievably chiseled torso, lightly tanned and dotted with freckles. Castiel was going to count those freckles. With his mouth.

A breath hissed out of Dean when Castiel knelt in front of him, fingers tracing lightly along the waist of his pants. Deft fingers slid the belt out of its buckle, and he gripped Dean's hips firmly. With a quirk of his lips, the Novak undid the button of Dean's jeans and pulled the zipper down with his teeth. "Fuck," Dean groaned when his mouth left him.

Castiel chuckled low in his throat. Dean was frozen, breathing hard as his skin was revealed inch by inch. The blue-eyed man's hands pushed Dean's jeans off, and he gripped Castiel's shoulders to steady himself as he stepped out of them. The socks were removed and Castiel made quick work of Dean's black briefs. He made sure not to touch Dean's heated flesh as the fabric was torn away.

Dean stood, bare, in front of a kneeling, fully clothed Castiel.

Castiel's eyes traveled up his form, flawless in every way. From his curling toes to his flushed cheeks, Dean was truly god-like. But for the shaking and thin sheen of sweat, he could have been a marble statue. Castiel's eyes took in his parted lips, heaving chest, tightening abdominal muscles, and finally, his perfect, mouth-watering length. It was an angry red, with precome already beading at the tip.

"Cas," Dean breathed. A request? A word of affection? A prayer?

"On the bed," Castiel ordered quietly. "On your stomach."

Dean blinked slowly, then nearly fell backwards to acquiesce. He sprawled out on the fluffy duvet, folding his arms under his head for support. When he turned his head, he could see all of Castiel.

Castiel then took his own clothes off. Trench coat, suit jacket, tie, dress shirt, slacks, briefs. Dean stared at him the entire time, lips parted and eyes dark. A tingle ran up Castiel's spine to have _that face_ directed at him.

They were both equally bare, and the Novak crawled over Dean, eyes sweeping over the expanse of warm skin. "Beautiful," Castiel murmured. He pressed a single kiss between Dean's shoulder blades, and the man whimpered. Pink tongue darted out, tasting the sheen of sweat on the golden skin. It was heady.

Dean couldn't hold back little breathy moans as Castiel's tongue and fingers mapped out his back, identifying thin scars and sensitive spots and all those freckles. He nipped at the nape of Dean's neck and the younger man thrust his hips into the sheets, unable to control himself.

Castiel moved away and bit back his overwhelming hunger. "On your back," he ordered.

Dean flipped over and stared up at Castiel with big, trusting eyes. He was flushed red from his hairline down his chest, fingers already grasping the sheets. His member jutted proudly from between his legs, twitching impatiently up at him.

Castiel sucked in a huge breath. No one who hadn't seen Dean like this could ever understand what salvation was. This was it, the real salvation.

"Cas," he said again, accompanied with a little thrust of his hips.

"Dean," he could only breathe back.

Castiel traced a finger over Dean's curled toes before grasping his foot and pulling it off the bed. Dean looked confused for a moment before a toe was slipped into Castiel's mouth. A little breath of shock escaped him when his tongue swirled around it. Castiel released it and moved to nose at the arch of his foot, Dean laughing breathlessly. He bit down, and the laugh became a squeak. He didn't have a fetish, but the foot was still an erogenous zone.

Castiel's tongue found the line on Dean's ankle where soft golden hair began. He traced his way up Dean's muscled calf, nipping and licking while his fingers kneaded the flesh gently. Dean jumped when his teeth scraped behind his knee.

Castiel mapped all the way to his shaking upper thigh before letting him go and repeating the whole procedure again with the other leg. Dean groaned in pleasure and impatience. "So good," Castiel murmured, and Dean melted back into the sheets.

When his legs were done, Castiel grasped Dean's hand and traced over each finger. Dean opened his previously-closed eyes and watched a finger disappear into the cavern of Castiel's mouth. His digits tasted like soap and paper and the same sort of musk that the rest of his skin seemed to exude.

He made sure to curl his tongue around the finger, tracing a line up the inside and hollowing out his cheeks. Quiet, breathy noises filled the room. Dean was probably unaware he was making them. Castiel drank them in, repeating his sucking motions with each finger. His wrist followed the fingers, and then his inner arm, the skin softer than Castiel had imagined it would be. A bite to the inside of his elbow elicited a little gasp from the Winchester, and Castiel grinned devilishly.

He nibbled up to Dean's clavicle, lapping up the drops of sweat greedily. Dean's head fell back at this, exposing more beautiful skin for Castiel's sampling.

Dean's breaths were becoming less breathy and more like moaning as Castiel kept a constant movement over his skin. He traced his veins and marked the thin, sensitive areas of flesh. Teeth dragged down Dean's ear, and he suckled a spot behind it that made his hips thrust up again.

Castiel moved away again, and Dean nearly sobbed. "Please, Cas," he begged.

"Soon, love," he promised, taking his other hand in his mouth. When he got to the other side of Dean's neck, the man was a shaking mess on the bed. Castiel could tell Dean was using all of his willpower to keep himself from begging. Again. When Castiel knew he was about to snap, he claimed Dean's lips again.

Sweat shone on Castiel now. His own erection screamed at him for touch, friction, anything, but he needed to possess Dean, _all_ of him.

Down his torso he went. Castiel paused at one of Dean's nipples, pink skin hard and bunched from cool air and arousal. The Novak licked one delicately, and Dean let out a little, "Uhhh." Castiel closed his lips around it and swirled his tongue, giving it the attention it deserved. Dean's hands came up to Castiel's head, scrambling for some kind of purchase. Castiel bit down on the abused flesh and Dean's grip tightened.

Castiel's head retreated and he focused on the other, licking and sucking and biting until Dean's breathy moans returned. "Cas, please," Dean finally begged, and Castiel hummed against his skin.

The Novak mouthed down Dean's perfect torso, stroking the shivering skin as he moved. As he descended, he could hear above him, "Fuck fuck fuck."

After teasing for so long, Castiel came face to face with Dean's angry red member. "I'm going to make you come three times tonight, Dean," Castiel growled. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah," Dean croaked. "Fuck yeah."

Castiel breathed hot air over Dean's length and it twitched violently. He started with gentle licks up the shaft, and Dean threw an arm over his face, groaning loudly. Castiel alternated flattening his tongue and pointing it, worshiping Dean's flesh.

When he knew Dean was about to ask for more, he gave Dean what he wanted and took his member into his mouth. "Oh god fuck," Dean clenched the sheets in his fists as Castiel slid his lips lower and lower. As he came up, he hollowed his cheeks and dragged his tongue along the thick vein at the bottom. He repeated this motion several times, Dean's sounds growing louder and louder.

"Not gonna... last long..." he gasped.

Castiel slid all the way down, relaxing his throat until his nose brushed Dean's trimmed pubic hair. He begun rhythmically swallowing around him and cupped his balls gently, rolling them in his fingers.

"Ahh!" Dean cried, voice getting higher and higher. With one last forceful squeeze and a low hum, Dean screamed his release, the sound echoing off the high ceilings. Castiel swallowed around him, moaning at the salty liquid in his mouth.

He cleaned Dean gently as he came down, twitching with the force of his orgasm. "Holy... shit..." he breathed, heart racing.

Castiel sat back, inspecting his work. Dean sprawled out on the bed, boneless and sweating. His skin was flushed and his eyes were lidded and he was absolutely beautiful.

"That was one," Castiel growled, and Dean whimpered. He gave Dean a few moments to slow his heart rate before he ordered, "On your stomach."

With some assistance, Dean managed to roll over. Castiel's strong hands kneaded into his muscles, erasing what little tension remained. Dean let out a little "Ungh," when Castiel placed a wet kiss to the small of his back.

Castiel's hands moved south, massaging the muscles of Dean's ass, parting his cheeks to reveal his furled pink entrance.

With a steadying breath, he licked a wet stripe over the puckered skin. A confused sound fell from Dean's lips, and Castiel reminded himself that this was all new to Dean, that he was Dean's first for all of these experiences. He licked again, but more gently, tentatively. His hands continued stroking Dean's skin and his tongue slowly worked Dean open.

Dean's guttural moans were now high pitched whimpers and whines, his face pressed into the pillow. Castiel was licking him in earnest now, this new taste of Dean even more exquisite than the last. More, he needed _more_.

Castiel's hands moved to the backs of Dean's thighs and he maneuvered the younger man into a better position: on his knees, shoulders and face still pushed into the pillows, ass in the air. Yes, this was better.

A spit-slicked finger rubbed at Dean's entrance while Castiel fumbled in his bedside drawer, finally grasping his bottle of lube. He withdrew his mouth and hands, and Dean made a sound of protest.

"Patience," he reminded Dean again, warming up some lube in his fingers.

Seconds later, Castiel's finger stroked against the barely opened entrance. Dean was shaking again, diamond-hard length hanging heavy between his legs. Castiel envied the young man for such a short refractory period.

He kept up the gentle motion, pressing kisses to Dean's pale skin. With no warning, he bit down on Dean's cheek and pushed his finger in to the first knuckle. Dean's cry was muffled by the pillow. It sounded more pleasured than pained, which Castiel took as a good sign.

He pulled the digit out and pushed it back in again, this time to the second knuckle. Dean accepted it eagerly, and without much more work, the whole appendage was inside.

"Good?" Castiel asked with a kiss to Dean's spine.

"Yeah," Dean grunted. "More."

Castiel moved his finger until Dean was completely acclimated before brushing his prostate ever so lightly.

The effect was amazing. Dean's back arched and he pushed back on Castiel's finger almost violently. "Jesus Christ!" he called out.

Castiel kept his touches light, stroking Dean's sweet spot gently with every thrust. Dean didn't even try to hold back wanton moans, pushing his hips backwards to meet Castiel, trying in vain to get more feeling.

Castiel pressed his other palm to the small of Dean's back, stilling his movements. "Cas," he choked, but Castiel knew what he was doing. He slowly added another finger, groaning as Dean clenched around them.

His palm stayed flattened and his strokes stayed light, and it was only minutes until Dean was panting. "C'mon, Cas, please!" he begged, and Castiel's ignored member twitched excitedly.

A little too early, perhaps, Castiel added another finger and twisted them, opening Dean with love and care. His other hand left Dean's back and his thumb pressed against Dean's perineum, rubbing circles. The dual prostate simulations were too much for Dean, and he came a second time, untouched.

Castiel withdrew his fingers gently, stroking Dean's oversensitive skin. His release was much smaller in volume, and Castiel wiped it away quickly. Dean slumped against the mattress, and the Novak moved him this time. He laid Dean on his back again, the green-eyed man making no move to stop him.

Castiel inspected his work again and he realized that there were tears leaking from Dean's closed eyes. Fear suddenly shot through him. Did he go to far? Dean said he wanted this, but he needed to make sure. The bed dipped as he crawled beside the man, petting his hair gently. "Dean?" he murmured. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

The younger man opened his eyes and did his best to smile. "No, Cas, 'm fine. I jus' haven't felt this kinda good before," he slurred quietly. "'S really intense."

"Well then," he murmured. "That was two." Castiel kissed his tears away and claimed Dean's lips. Though he nipped at the red skin, he kept the pace slow, allowing Dean to catch his breath. The flesh between Castiel's legs was aching, begging the man to bury himself into Dean _right fucking now_. He used all of his will power to ignore it. He wanted to come with Dean, one more time.

It took a little longer this time, but Castiel waited patiently. For twenty minutes he kissed Dean, long and languid and loving. His fingers brushed along the sensitive skin of his torso, thumbing over each nipple gently. Dean shuddered and threaded his fingers in Castiel's hair.

The kisses turned heated, and Dean was up to full mast, whimpering into Castiel's mouth. "God, Cas," he gasped when the older man bit down on the junction of his neck and shoulder.

"You ready, love?" Castiel asked.

"Yes," the word came out louder than Dean probably intended, and he flushed even redder than before.

After placing a pillow under the small of Dean's back, Castiel slicked himself up generously and aligned his length properly. His blunt head nudged at Dean's entrance, and Dean pulled Castiel's face towards him.

The Novak propped himself on his elbow with one arm, and cradled Dean's head in his hand with the other. He kissed Dean, gently, and slid himself in to the hilt with one push.

His vision immediately whited out. Holy fucking shit. Dean's channel was hot and velvety and _tight_ , squeezing as it acclimated to Castiel's girth. He was, after all, wider than three fingers. His nerve endings sang, and he had to bite his lip hard to prevent himself from coming right then and there.

He fought through the sudden haze of pure lust that had descended, screaming, _MorewanttakefuckDean!_ Dean's eyes were opened wide and his heart pounded against Castiel's chest. "Breathe, Dean," Castiel commanded, and the man took in a shuddering breath.

"Okay," Dean murmured, gripping Castiel's sides. "Okay, move."

Castiel pulled out and pushed back in, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. "Fuck," he hissed. Dean could only moan brokenly. Castiel did it again, and again, determined not to completely lose himself in Dean. Not yet.

He pulled Dean's legs up and they automatically wrapped around him. The new angle allowed him to- right there. Castiel hit the magic button and Dean cried out, nearly hitting his head against Castiel's headboard.

 _That_ was when the Novak began to lose himself. Dean was clenching and unclenching around him, sweating and shaking and whimpering, clawing at every bit of Castiel's skin that he could reach. Castiel balanced on the knife's edge, teetering between holding on and shattering.

There was a fire consuming him, delicious tingling heat burning through his every nerve. He felt no aches or muscle strain or pain from Dean's nails. He had become nothing but intense pleasure, Dean's blissed out expression mirroring his. This was heaven. Castiel nearly wanted to pray so he could feel Dean like this for all eternity.

Dean could no longer speak, not to say Castiel's name or even beg. Just nonsense syllables fell from his mouth, high-pitched and desperate.

When the Winchesters entire body began to spasm, Castiel reached down and grasped Dean's length firmly, pumping it in time with his own strokes. Seconds later, Dean's body seized up, his orgasm taking him with a yell so loud that it couldn't have _not_ woken the neighbors.

His channel clenched perfectly around Castiel and the Novak fell right off the edge, letting the fire consume him. Dean's body welcomed his release, and they came down together. "Three," Castiel croaked as he pulled himself gently out of Dean and collapsed next to him.

The two men lay spent and exhausted, unmoving for several minutes. They didn't speak, Castiel couldn't form words. A part of him knew he should get up and clean Dean off. The Winchester's third orgasm had been relatively dry, but Castiel's own covered Dean, and it must be unpleasant.

He made to get up, but Dean grasped weakly at Castiel's wrist. "I'm just going to clean you up," he murmured, but Dean didn't let go.

Instead, he turned his beautiful green eyes on him. "Stay." It was a command, but tinged with uncertainty. Castiel's chest ached wonderfully, and he snagged a shirt to make do with.

The soiled shirt was tossed somewhere off the bed, and Castiel pulled the blankets around them both. Dean melted into his side, head resting comfortably on Castiel's chest and an arm thrown over him. The older man's fingers dragged through Dean's golden hair, gently massaging his scalp.

"Are you alright, love?" Castiel asked.

"Yes," Dean murmured. "Cas, this... I don't even know how to describe this."

Castiel chuckled. "Just tell me that it was good."

It was Dean's turn to laugh. "Understatement."

Castiel pressed a kiss to the top of Dean's head. A stupid smile made its way across the Novak's face, and he did nothing to stop it. Dean was was going to beat down his insecurities, force Castiel to take him off the pedestal he'd put him on. Dean was determined to made Castiel see that he himself was human too, a human that had baggage and made mistakes and was as flawed as Castiel was. No matter how hard he tried, though, he would never get Castiel to think he was anything less than perfect.

There was really nothing left to say. They were both drained and he was pretty sure that Dean had already fallen asleep. With one last kiss to Dean's head, Castiel closed his eyes and allowed himself to be pulled under.

 **A/N:** Merry Christmas everyone (:


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Thank you to all who reviewed! And welcome back hellosweetpea (: So to anyone who's read my longest fic to date, _The Raven_ , the sequel will be coming out soon! If you haven't read it, go check it out!

Now for the next episode. Enjoy!

 **Chapter Ten**

He woke slowly, eyes unfocused in the bright light of late morning. Castiel felt heavy and warm. He realized he felt heavy because he had one Dean Winchester almost on top of him. An arm was thrown around his waist, a leg was hitched up and nearly wrapped around his hip, and a head was tucked firmly into his neck. Dean's breath was gentle and cool across Castiel's collar bone.

A giddy feeling bubbled up in Castiel's chest. None of the previous day had been a dream. Dean was here, Dean cared about him, and Dean decided to give them a try. He stretched contentedly, and Dean stirred.

"Mornin', sunshine," he muttered into Castiel's skin.

"Too early," Castiel muttered back, wrapping both arms around Dean and shifting to his side. "Sleep."

The Winchester chuckled. "It's like ten. You must not be a morning person."

Castiel grunted wordlessly, and Dean grinned. "Come on," he prodded Castiel's side, and he squirmed. "I'll make you pancakes."

Castiel stilled for a moment. "Blueberry?"

Dean laughed and wiggled out of Castiel's arms. The Novak turned in time to see a very naked Dean in his doorway, glancing over his shoulder. His eyes swept down the beautiful form before traveling up, meeting Dean's eyes just in time to see him wink and saunter out the door.

For a moment, Castiel fell back in the strewn comforters, staring at the ceiling with a little smile on his face. It was all real. Warmth spread through his body, and he rushed out of bed, also stark naked.

In the kitchen, Dean was attempting to make good on his promise. He had one door of Castiel's cabinet open, squinting into its recesses.

"Looking for ingredients?" Castiel asked, leaning against the counter.

Dean jumped a little, then grinned sheepishly. "You have a huge kitchen... it's kinda difficult to navigate." He glanced back into the cabinet and squinted again. "Plus, these shelves are real sad-looking."

Castiel glanced around his kitchen. It was indeed large, larger than he needed. He really wasn't very good with cooking.

"All my food is in the freezer," Castiel watched Dean's eyebrows raise. "It's in a variety of cardboard boxes, waiting to be thawed in a microwave."

Dean shook his head. "That's the most depressing thing I've ever heard. From now on, I'm cooking for you."

Castiel had just pressed the brew button on his coffee pot when he stilled. There was something in Dean's expression, something like determination, but more gentle, that made him walk forward.

"This is really happening, isn't it?" Castiel whispered, tracing a line over Dean's bare hip.

"Yeah," Dean swallowed thickly, blinking up at Castiel.

Dean's hand came up to rest on Castiel's cheek, and the Novak turned to press his lips to it. Dean smiled and tugged Castiel's face forward, bringing their lips together. It was sweet and slow, at first, but then Castiel realized that they were both still naked.

Dean must have realized it at the same time, because he pulled Castiel firmly against his body, skin warm against skin. Castiel went from zero to sixty immediately. He had the libido of a teenage boy with Dean.

Castiel mouthed down Dean's scruffy jaw, hands sliding across the soft expanse of Dean's lower back.

"You know... what I never got to do?" Dean said between breaths.

"Hmm?" Castiel hummed against his jugular.

Dean pulled away from Castiel, and there was a second of hesitation before he sank to his knees. "Fuck," Castiel whispered. It was exactly like his fantasy.

The Winchester stroked Castiel's thighs as his back hit the island. "I've never, ah, done this before, so..." Dean trailed off.

Double fuck. Castiel's length twitched at that statement alone, and Dean's eyes watched the movement. "I believe in you, Dean," Castiel murmured, gripping the countertop until his knuckles turned white.

After a steadying breath, Dean went for it. No build up, no teasing, just tight wet heat enveloping Castiel completely. "Ahh," Castiel gasped, head falling backwards.

Dean was imitating what Castiel had done to him the previous night. He hollowed his cheeks and ran his tongue along the underside's thick vein, and Castiel's thighs shuddered. It was sloppy, but filled with wonder and excitement.

After a minute, Dean removed his hands from Castiel's legs and rested them on his own for support. He stilled his movements and looked up at the Novak, big green eyes blinking innocently up at him. Very slowly, Dean took Castiel deeper until his nose hit his dark trimmed curls.

Did he... did he want Castiel to fuck his mouth? If Dean could have smiled around Castiel's member, he was. He just sat there, waiting.

Castiel unclenched one of his hands from the countertop and pet it through Dean's hair, reaching down to cradle the back of his skull. Dean hummed, his eyes falling shut. Ever so slowly, Castiel pulled his hips back and slid forward again, feeling Dean's throat around him.

"Fuck, Dean," Castiel gasped, repeating his motions. Dean moaned, his shiny lips stretched wide around Castiel's girth. It was an image that would forever be seared onto Castiel's brain.

Castiel pushed harder, and Dean took it. He hummed and looked up at Castiel as the older man thrust faster and faster. Dean gagged a few times, but indicated for Castiel to keep going.

Saliva and pressure tears were running down Dean's face, the younger man's eyes fluttering closed. Dean shifted and moaned, and Castiel was almost there again.

The Novak looked down at the beautiful sight and saw Dean fisting his own length, pumping himself rapidly. That's what sent Castiel over the edge. Dean was getting off on Castiel fucking his mouth.

Dean swallowed everything he could, but a bit of sticky liquid ended up on his face. He ignored it, instead pulling off Castiel's softening member and leaning his forehead against his hip. Castiel grasped Dean's chin and tilted his head up. "Come for me, Dean," he ordered weakly, and Dean did.

Castiel watched Dean's face as his orgasm took him. He hadn't really seen much the previous night, as all his senses except touch had vanished, and damn had he missed out. Dean's nose was a little scrunched up, reddened lips parted in an 'o'. His brows rose, adding a vulnerability to the look that tied the whole thing together. He looked utterly debauched.

Castiel sank to the kitchen floor next to Dean and pulled the younger man into his arms. "How are you even real?" he murmured, and Dean chuckled.

They sat on the kitchen floor for longer than necessary, sharing lazy kisses. They cleaned the floor quickly and agreed to take a shower before figuring out what to eat.

Castiel massaged shampoo into Dean's scalp, and in return, Dean scrubbed his back. They dried off, donned Castiel's old sweatpants, and vegged out after ordering Chinese food, as it was almost noon by that time.

For the first time since he could remember, Castiel was really and truly relaxed. All of his attention was taken by Dean and his beautiful secret smiles and hysterical laughter and quiet words. Even when a thought about Michael or his father crossed his mind, Castiel couldn't find it in him to feel angry. Dean sucked all the negative feelings out of him and made them disappear.

It was nearing five o' clock and the two were tossing mini marshmallows into each other's mouths on Castiel's living room floor. Dean was best at it, and he chewed happily at another successful catch.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, pausing their game.

"Mhmm?" Dean smiled at him from a few feet away, the farthest they had managed to get from each other since the encounter in the kitchen.

"You know those hand deliver letters that Gabriel had you give to me in person?" he asked quietly. Dean nodded, and Castiel smiled wryly. "His objective was to get us together. The contents were rarely worthy of even being written down."

Dean blinked a few times. "Well. I'll have to thank him. Maybe get him a bigger fish bowl as a present." The two dissolved into laughter and closed the few feet between them.

That evening, Castiel drove Dean back to his apartment. "Sorry I gotta go so soon," Dean said, as if he had forgotten that he'd been with Castiel for almost twenty-four hours. "I got off from work yesterday, but I still need to go tonight."

"Quite alright," Castiel parked the car. "I'll miss you terribly, though."

"Well, I'll see you Monday." Both men grimaced. That was far too long a gap to go without seeing Dean.

"Can I take you to lunch tomorrow?" Castiel asked.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "It's a date," he grinned.

o o o

Castiel had no idea why fate or destiny or whatever deity of the day had given him Dean, but he woke up every morning with the urge to sing praises. It had been only two weeks and he felt like he had died and gone to a heaven sweeter than he could have ever been promised. He still worked and had his general life issues, but he also had Dean.

They didn't broadcast their relationship to the rest of the company, for obvious reasons, but they did tell Gabriel. Or rather, Gabriel walked right in to Castiel's office while Castiel had his tongue down Dean's throat. His resonating "Whoop!" could be heard throughout the top floor, and Castiel calmly told the employees in the hallway that Gabriel had slipped on his carpet and to carry on working, thank you.

"About fucking time!" Gabriel clapped Castiel on the shoulder, who scowled at his brother.

"I'm not sure if you're familiar with this new custom, but it's called knocking, and I can show you how to do it if you're experiencing trouble," the younger Novak fumed.

Gabriel completely ignored Castiel and turned instead to Dean, who was grinning like an idiot. "You good, Dean-o?"

The Winchester nodded. "Absolutely. Thanks for the shady secret letter thing, Mr. Novak."

Gabriel wiped a fake tear from his cheek. "I'm so proud of myself. I should matchmake for a living." Dean chuckled. Then Gabriel turned serious. "You're an older brother, I hear. You know what kind of older brother talk I have to give you."

Dean glanced at Castiel, a little smile on his face. "I know. And I promise, I couldn't hurt him, and I never want to." The corners of Castiel's lips twitched up, no matter how upset he wanted to be with his brother. "He's everything to me."

Gabriel stared at him for a moment before smiling again. "You're disgusting. Come here." He pulled Dean in for a tight hug, and Dean laughed.

"Thanks, Mr. Novak."

"Call me Gabe," Gabriel grinned at Castiel. "Or bro, I don't know if you two have planned the wedding yet."

Dean flushed red and Castiel slapped a hand over his face before speaking through his fingers. "Thank you for your visit, please try out that new knocking custom I was talking about."

It was Friday before the bubble of ecstasy popped.

It was pretty quiet in Castiel's office, and he didn't actually mind going through the distribution progress report. Dean was outside, working diligently on a memo that Castiel needed to send out to the executives soon. Everything was fine, and then there was a knock on the door.

"Cas?" It was Dean.

"Come in, Dean," Castiel called, a smile lighting up his face.

Dean looked nervous, but Castiel knew it wasn't about seeing him. The Winchester closed the door and came up to lean on Castiel's desk. "Your brother called."

Castiel blinked at him. "Not Gabriel, I assume," he murmured, a little knot in his stomach twisting.

Dean shook his head. "Michael. I told him you were in a very important meeting and couldn't be reached."

Castiel breathed slowly, relieved. "Thank you."

Dean fidgeted. "He called six times, Cas."

The relief fled immediately. "What did you tell him?"

"I didn't answer," Dean crossed his arms. "He didn't leave any voicemails either." After a little pause: "Want me to come over tonight?"

It was Friday, so Castiel assumed Dean would anyway, but it meant something more. Comfort. He nodded, and Dean circled the desk to Castiel's chair. With some maneuvering, he managed to straddle the Novak on his office chair.

It wasn't a sexual feeling. Dean just sat with him, fingers carding through his hair gently. The knot in Castiel's stomach slowly faded away. No one could hurt him if Dean was here. "Thank you," he said. _I love you._ He couldn't say the words just yet. It would be too much too soon, but he didn't feel bad about it. Dean was here, and that was enough.

Dean tilted Castiel's head up and kissed him softly. "I'm gonna go work on your memo, 'kay?"

Castiel nodded and gave Dean one more kiss before the younger man slid off him. He had barely taken two steps towards the door when Gabriel burst through it, breathing unevenly.

Castiel was about to chastise him for once again forgetting how to knock, but his somber expression stopped him. "Gabriel-"

He interrupted. "Dad's dead."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Thank you to those who reviewed! This story will probably end up at around seventeenish chapters, for anyone who's wondering, and I'm very close to being done. After that will come the sequel to _The Raven_ , now officially named _The Phoenix_. Again, thank you to everyone reading!

And now… "Dad's dead."

 **Chapter Eleven**

Everyone was silent for a long moment. No one moved. Gabriel looked grave, Dean was facing a different direction, and Castiel... how did he look?

The first emotion that ran through his head was relief. No more phone calls, no more threats of beatings, or actual beatings. Half of the cause of his lifelong torment was gone, with no chance of return. Castiel was just a little safer now.

But then, he felt bad. Not sad, but a little guilty. His father wasn't the worst of the two. He beat Castiel and told him all sorts of horrible things about himself, but he did it out of religious belief, however twisted it was. He wasn't the hypocrite. He never violated Castiel. He was a bad man, a very bad man, but his father wasn't evil.

Castiel was conflicted. Which emotion was predominant? Relief or guilt? He knew his mouth was open, but his expression was mostly blank.

"Okay," he settled on a minute later.

Gabriel looked at him, as if trying to solve a puzzle. After another long moment, the older Novak said, "I suggest you take the rest of the day off."

Castiel nodded and began to pack his things robotically, and Gabriel and Dean shared a look. Something passed between them, and Gabriel was gone.

Dean was silent as he packed up his own things. They rode to Castiel's house in the Impala, Dean texting Gabe from Castiel's phone to get the Corolla home sometime during the weekend.

Castiel was silent in the car. His stomach clenched, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Was it relief or guilt? He still couldn't decide.

They were at his house in record time. Castiel dropped his briefcase and trench coat by the front door and toed off his shoes before Dean put a hand on his shoulder.

"Cas, I know how you're feeling right now," he said quietly.

Castiel blinked. "I don't know how I feel right now, so you have more information than I do," he removed Dean's hand from his shoulder, but kept it in his hand, the warmth comforting.

Dean sighed, and pulled them both towards Castiel's bedroom. He encouraged Castiel to change into comfortable clothing, and he stole a pair of sweatpants for himself. "Come on," he told Castiel, pulling the older man into bed.

"Dean, I think I'm fine," Castiel frowned, but there was no malice in his voice.

"You're surprised and confused," the Winchester stated, laying on his side. "Right?"

Castiel nodded.

"It's… weird having an abusive dad die. You feel glad that he's gone, but guilty for thinking that. You feel like you should feel sad, but instead you're just kind of numb." Dean raised his eyebrows, silently asking if he was right.

"That's very accurate," Castiel chuckled. "For a moment, I forgot that you've been in this same situation."

Dean smiled. "I'm sorry that this happened, but I don't think I'm sorry he's gone." There was a moment of silence. "Anyone that hurts you is my enemy."

Castiel reached out and stroked Dean's side. "He wasn't the worst of the two," Castiel said hesitantly.

Dean nodded in agreement. He scooted into Castiel's space and laid his head on his chest. There was a long moment of silence. "Did you want to talk about it any more?"

Castiel sighed. "I believe I'm still in shock," he said. It was true. He never saw his father and ignored the majority of his phone calls, so it's not like his life would be any different now. There was no chance for surprise visits or thinly-veiled threats. He _still_ wasn't going to spend Christmas at the family home. His life wouldn't change at all.

"That's probably what Michael was calling about," Castiel murmured absently. Silence. "I'm okay, Dean," he reassured the younger man, who was still looking at him with a furrowed brow.

Dean sighed. "Well, if you're alright, do you want to order a pizza, watch Star Wars, and make out a lot?" He grinned widely, and Castiel smiled.

"Absolutely."

o o o

The next day was Saturday, and Castiel was woken by a vibrating phone. He checked to make sure it was Gabriel before tiptoeing out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

"Hello Gabriel," he greeted, yawning.

"Hey Cassie, did-" he paused. "Were you sleeping?"

Castiel chuckled softly. "Yes."

"It's past eleven. Was Dean comforting you with his-"

"Gabriel," Castiel cut him off. "Did you have something to tell me or did you just want to tease me about my sex life?"

He could nearly hear Gabriel's smile on the other end of the line. "My baby has a sex life. I'm so proud." Castiel waited patiently for his brother to run out of fake happy tears. He cleared his throat. "On a far less sexy note, I wanted to talk to you about dad's funeral."

The smile dropped off Castiel's face. "Okay. What do you need me to do?" He decided that being in shock wasn't that bad, because he could still be productive and didn't have to decide how to feel yet. Emotions are strange, fickle things.

"We've got it covered, mostly," Gabriel sounded tired. "It's on Monday, and all I'm asking of you is that you show up, just for the service. Then you're free to go."

Castiel paused. "Will Michael be there?" he asked quietly.

Gabriel paused as well. "He hasn't answered any of my phone calls," he said nervously. "The service isn't going to be religious, like at all, so I think he's not coming to spite us. Fine with me."

Castiel let out a sigh of relief. "I'll be there."

"Me too," came a gruff voice behind him. Warm hands slipped around Castiel's waist, and Dean's cheek came to rest on Castiel's shoulder. Castiel couldn't hide his smile.

"Good to hear, Dean-o," Gabriel sounded muffled. "I'll put you down for plus one. I gotta go now, the florist is a bitch." There were some muffled voices on the line, and something that sounded like, "It's three hundred dollars for one wreath, I'm buying the right to call you a bitch." Castiel felt Dean chuckle over his shoulder.

"Good luck, Gabriel," Castiel said before hanging up. He twisted in Dean's arms and gave the younger man an innocent peck on the lips.

After a comfortable stretch of silence, Castiel asked, "Going to the funeral is the right thing to do, isn't it?"

Dean pulled away to look him in the eyes. "I think so," he rubbed soothing circles on the older man's hip. "You sound pretty okay, and if you're okay, I think it'll be good for you to go. Get some closure, y'know?"

Castiel nodded. "You'll really go with me?"

Dean smiled. "Of course. I'm with you 'till the end of the line."

Castiel tilted his head. "Is that a reference to something?"

Dean pulled him in for a playful kiss. "Captain America. You're learning fast."

"I have a good teacher," Castiel murmured, pulling Dean flush against him. He claimed Dean's mouth, slowly but deeply. He licked a line over the roof of Dean's mouth and he shuddered.

"I have morning breath," Dean mumbled. "And I'm still sticky from yesterday."

"Let's take a shower then," Castiel threaded his fingers through Dean's and pulled him from the kitchen.

Dean grinned. "Together, to save water, right?"

"Of course," Castiel raised an eyebrow. "I care deeply about our environment."

o o o

Castiel thought he was fine, he really did. But that evening while Dean was at his Saturday night Roadhouse shift, that shock that had kept his mind so blissfully blank morphed into something close to anxiety.

He had always had his father there in the back of his mind. He hated him, sure, but he was the authority figure. _The_ authority figure, over all his children, including Michael. There was always a higher power and now… Their family, however scattered, was down to one generation. There was no Novak patriarch, and Michael had no one with more power than himself.

Michael had never acted without their father there, and now, there was no one he had to justify his actions to. He didn't have to lie about what he did to Castiel. God knows what Michael told their father, but whatever it was, it kept his horrible actions a secret. They still had to act civil for father. But now there was nothing to reign Michael in.

What if he showed up at the funeral? What if he showed up at Castiel's house?! He had no idea how Michael's crazy had changed over the years, but he absolutely did not want to find out.

For a moment, Castiel wondered if he should call Michael for the first time in almost twenty years just to get a straight answer about whether or not he was going to the service. That thought died quickly.

Castiel laid in bed staring at the ceiling until Dean tiptoed in near two thirty.

"Hello, Dean," he said quietly.

Dean jumped so hard he almost hit his head on the wall. "Jesus, Cas! Give a guy a heart attack." Castiel smiled at Dean's grumbling. "At least make a noise or somethin'."

"How was your shift?" he asked as Dean shucked off his clothes and flopped into bed.

"It was okay," he sighed, wrapping an arm around Castiel's torso. "Had to break up a fight. I might have a few bruises in the morning."

Castiel rolled over Dean. "Are you alright?" He stroked his thumb over Dean's cheek as if that would heal his wounds.

The Winchester chuckled. "You obviously haven't seen me fight before," he pushed Castiel back to his prone position. "The other guys got it way worse. I'm just fine."

They lay there for a bit, but neither man went to sleep.

"What's keeping you up?" Dean asked quietly after a few minutes. Castiel was quiet. "It's sinking in, isn't it?"

Castiel pressed his forehead to Dean's shoulder, hiding his face. "I'm just scared," he whispered.

"He's gone, Cas," Dean carded his fingers through raven hair. "You don't-"

"It's not my father I'm scared of."

Dean said nothing, but held Castiel tightly. "I know you're worried," Dean said quietly. "You have the right to be worried, but you don't have to be. I'll be here, every step of the way."

Castiel leaned back to look at Dean, who had the most determined look on his face. It was ridiculously cute. They settled back down, and Dean made a little noise of pondering.

"What?"

"I was just thinking," Dean said, "You can talk to Gabe about this stuff because he's your brother, and you can talk to me because we're in a relationship," the corners of his mouth quirked up, "but if you ever want to talk to someone who would be one hundred percent honest and unbiased, you should talk to Bobby."

Castiel tilted his head on the pillow. "Bobby Singer, from the auto shop?"

"Yeah," Dean gave him a lopsided grin. "He's the father I wish I'd had. He's old and crotchety, but he's one of the best men I know." Dean fidgeted for a minute. "He, uh, also wants to meet you. Y'know, as my…" Dean trailed off. "Boyfriend sounds kinda childish."

Castiel twined their fingers together. "What about… lover?"

"We don't need to broadcast _that_ to the world."

Castiel grinned. "Partner?"

"Well, we're not actually married." Dean laughed.

"Companion?"

"Too cheesy, Doctor."

There was a quiet moment before Castiel spoke up again. "Gabriel watches a hospital-based show, I can't remember the name-"

"Doctor Sexy?" Dean asked quickly. Castiel raised an eyebrow, and Dean smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, go on."

"I don't believe it was Doctor Sexy, but I don't know. There are so many these days. Anyway, in the show, one character calls another character their 'person'."

Dean nodded. "Grey's Anatomy. Not as good, but still."

Castiel readjusted himself to lay on his side, facing Dean completely. "Am I correct to say that you are my person, Dean?"

Dean's smile was blinding, even in the dark. "Absolutely. And you're my person."

Warmth burst in Castiel's chest, and he closed the small distance to claim Dean's mouth. Dean sighed comfortably and melted into Castiel, who wrapped an arm around him for support.

"I'm still probably gonna call you sweetheart, though," Dean mumbled against his lips.

"Fine with me," Castiel murmured with a smile.

It was nearly an hour before the two lay still again, sweaty and sated. Castiel's eyelids were heavy and closing, but Dean grunted and lifted his head.

"We got a little side-tracked, but Bobby still wants to meet you."

Castiel blinked slowly. "Right, yes. When would you like that to happen?"

Dean scowled down at the mattress. "Would you want to tomorrow? Y'know, as a distraction?"

Castiel might need a distraction before the funeral on Monday. Just thinking about it made his teeth grind together. He'd be lowering his dead abusive father into the ground in the presence of everyone who thought the man was a saint. Cremation might have been a better choice.

"That would be fine," he said after a moment. "It won't be an inconvenience to him?"

Dean relaxed and snuggled closer to the Novak. "Nah. I show up at his place unannounced all the time." He yawned. "It'll be good. Now time for shuteye."

Castiel smiled as Dean made himself comfortable and passed out. With one last kiss on his head, he followed him.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** I'm officially done writing this fic! Epilogue and all! I hope to have it all up soon, but not all at once. Too many feels.

This chapter is short, but it says what it needs to. It's the calm before the storm.

 **Chapter Twelve**

No matter how many times Dean reassured him, Castiel was nervous about meeting Bobby. This was the first family member of Dean's he was meeting. Not just that- Dean's adoptive father, the father he should've had.

Dean had been talking about Bobby the whole drive, Castiel listening from the Impala's passenger seat. He learned that Dean and Sam moved in with Bobby after their father's death, and that he was the one who provided Dean with the materials to repair the Impala. He helped Sam through high school, and a portion of his paycheck was sent to Stanford to pay for Sam's education. He took care of the boys when they were sick, gave them comfort and advice, and forced them to spend each holiday with friends and family. Bobby Singer was their guardian angel.

The house they pulled up to was a little run down, but still looked sturdy and cared-for. "Cas," Dean said, snapping Castiel out of his little daze. "It's gonna be fine. He'll love you."

Castiel relaxed a little at his reassuring smile, and gave him a quick kiss. "I just hope I meet his expectations," he muttered.

When Bobby opened the door, he didn't seem surprised at all to see Dean. "Hey kid," he greeted him with a manly, one-armed hug. Then his sharp blue eyes fell on Castiel. "Castiel," he shook his hand firmly. "How's that battery a' yours workin'?"

"Perfectly, sir." They followed Bobby into the house.

"Good," he grunted. "Now Dean, there are two cars out back that need their stereos rewired."

"But Bobby-" Dean whined.

Bobby smiled under his beard. "Hop to it, son. You know this'd happen sooner or later."

Castiel swallowed thickly as Dean squeezed his hand. He shot him an _I'm sorry for this,_ look, and trudged to where Castiel assumed the back door was.

Castiel tried not to squirm under Bobby's scrutiny, but after a few moments he turned away. "Let's go to the kitchen. Pasta's cookin'."

Castiel followed dutifully and stood in the doorway.

Bobby stirred a pot of cooking noodles and turned towards the fidgeting Novak. "Time for the third degree. But don't panic, I ain't gonna bite."

"I understand, sir," Castiel smoothed out his featured and breathed deeply. He trusted Dean, and Dean trusted Bobby. Transitive property.

"Don't call me sir, it's Bobby. And have a seat." His tone was gruff, but his eyes were soft.

"Alright, Bobby," Castiel sat on one of the chairs near a surprisingly large table.

Bobby stirred for a few more minutes, then turned off the stove. "All I know is what Dean's told me, and that's not much. So I need to hear the whole story from you." Bobby sat across from Castiel and waited.

Castiel nodded, but was quiet for a moment. How in depth did he want him to go? Did he need to know all the… intimate details?

"Well," Castiel began. "I met Dean several weeks ago, when he worked in the mailroom at my company. We became acquaintances, and when my secretary quit, I asked Dean to be my personal assistant. He sounded hard working and dedicated, and it seemed like the right choice."

Castiel paused, but Bobby just waited. He could see where Dean got his patience from.

"We became close after that. I… I don't think I have to tell you how amazing he is, because you've been around him much longer than I have." Bobby grunted in agreement.

Castiel continued. "I had a very poor childhood. I'm not sure how much Dean has told you, but I had an abusive father and brother. That gave me very low self-esteem, still to this day. So when Dean and I…" Shit, how did he phrase it?

"Bumped uglies?" Bobby finished. Castiel colored bright red, and Bobby chuckled. "Go on."

"R-Right," Castiel cleared his throat. "When… _that_ happened, I kind of lost it." He took a much needed breath. "I've always thought Dean was too good for me, I know he is, so I thought I needed to stop my growing emotions and let him find someone better. I didn't realize the extent of his feelings until my battery died and I went into your shop."

Castiel paused again, but Bobby continued to wait.

"Dean forced me to talk to him that night, and we had a long conversation about everything. He knows everything about me now, and still chose to let me be with him. So, as he puts it, he is my person. And I am his."

Bobby appraised Castiel for another moment. "Do you love him?"

"Unquestionably," Castiel replied immediately. "I've never felt as strongly towards another person in my entire life." He'd never said it out loud before, but it was all true. He loved Dean, more than anything else in the world. The thought brought warmth to his chest, and he couldn't keep the little smile off his face.

Bobby nodded at the table. "I was gonna give you all kinds'a threats and the like, but I think you really mean it."

"I do," Castiel clasped his hands together. "And if he has even a shred of the same feeling, then it's good enough for me. Forever." He hadn't really meant for that last word to slip out, but it was true. Forever with Dean sounded like a great concept.

Bobby rose and went to strain the pasta. "It's more than a shred, I can tell you that," Bobby said to a can of marinara sauce.

Castiel's eyes widened. "Did… did he say anything to you?"

"A few times," Bobby removed three plates from a cabinet. "At first it was just 'Bobby, my new C.E.O. is so awesome.' Then it turned into 'Bobby, I think I like Mr. Novak.' And then it was 'Bobby, I can't do this without Cas.'"

Castiel swallowed thickly.

"And on that Friday, when all that emotions shit went down, he asked me to take care of his Impala. And I'm sure you've seen how much he loves that car."

Castiel grinned down at his hands before getting up. "I wondered what that was," he murmured. With a glance at Bobby to make sure it was okay, Castiel pulled out three glasses and filled them up with water. He wanted to help set the table, somehow.

"I guess the point of all that is that I want you to take care of him. He puts on a tough front, but he needs love, and so do you." Bobby pointed the wooden spoon as Castiel, but it was less threatening and more humorous now.

"Thank you, Bobby," Castiel murmured gratefully.

They worked in silence for a few moments before Castiel spoke up again. "Dean said that I could talk to you about something, if I needed to."

Bobby glanced up at him. "Go ahead, son," Bobby nodded, and Castiel's eyes prickled a little. No one had ever called him 'son' before. He pushed the thought away and cleared his throat.

"My father died recently, and I've been asked to go to the service. I think I'm going to go, but I'm not sure how to deal with it. Emotionally, I mean."

"I know how you feel," Bobby scooped a bit of penne onto a plate. "My daddy was abusive too. Just like yours and Dean's."

Wow. All three of them. He let out a humorless laugh. "We should form a club." Both men chuckled as they set the table.

"Anyway," Castiel folded the last napkin, "What should I do about all this?"

Bobby suddenly turned towards Castiel, focusing entirely on him. "You don't owe your daddy nothin'. If you wanna skip the funeral and never lay eyes on 'im again, you've got every right to do so. And if you want to go, it's your choice." Bobby crossed to the fridge. "You're gonna be mad, and you've gonna be sad, and you're gonna feel all sortsa things that you don't understand, no matter what he did to you. All you have to do is take it one day at a time."

Castiel nodded. It was nice, having Bobby validate what he was thinking. Bobby handed him a beer, and the glass clinked.

"Alright, I'm done," Dean stormed into the room. "I should get paid for this."

"Can it, you love workin'," Bobby grinned. "Now sit, your food's getting cold."

Instead of sitting, Dean grabbed Castiel and kissed him quickly. "Please tell me he didn't scare you off," Dean whispered.

"I can hear you, idjit," Bobby grumbled.

"Quite the opposite," Castiel pulled Dean into a chair. "Thank you for bringing me, Dean."

"'Course," Dean smiled broadly.

The rest of the meal was filled with fun facts and embarrassing stories from Dean's childhood, which the Winchester protested loudly each time.

"Dean wanted to prove to Sam that he was a superhero, so he practiced jumping off the shed." Bobby chuckled. "The kid thought he could fly."

"It's called an imagination," Dean grumbled. "Besides, I wasn't the one who broke my arm."

Bobby smiled fondly at Dean. "He took Sam to the hospital on the handlebars of his bike."

"That's adorable," Castiel grinned as Dean stuck his tongue out.

"When's Sam coming in for the break anyway?" Bobby asked, finishing off his last meatball.

"Just about a week from now," Dean glanced at the calendar. "The kid was offered a job over the break, but you know him. He'd never bail on Winchester Christmas."

"Doncha mean Singer Christmas?"

"Or Harvelle Christmas, or Mills Christmas, or Turner Christmas…" Dean turned to Castiel. "Or Novak Christmas?" Castiel blinked at him, surprised. "I mean, if you don't have other plans or anything, you could, y'know, spend it with us?"

Bobby rolled his eyes at Dean's suddenly shy tone. "He means you're invited. Booziest Christmas you'll ever have."

Castiel smiled so hard his face hurt. "That would be wonderful," he couldn't help giving Dean's hand a squeeze under the table. Novak Christmas was usually a Hallmark channel movie binge and enough Chinese food to put him into a coma. Winchester, Singer, whichever Christmas sounded a hell of a lot better, regardless of the amount of alcohol.

Wait. He needed to get Dean a Christmas gift. Shit. "Cas? You okay?" Dean asked.

"It's already December and I haven't started thinking of gifts." There was a faraway expression on his face, but Bobby and Dean just laughed.

"Don't worry about it, Cas," Dean squeezed his shoulder. "Just buy me a drink. Best present I could ask for."

Bobby and Dean dissolved into what they could really use as Christmas presents. Bobby wanted a better tow truck for the garage, and Dean wanted more cars to restore. Bobby wanted a proper recliner that wouldn't give him a crick in his neck when he fell asleep in it, and Dean wanted a welding torch, because why not? Bobby wanted a new shotgun, and Dean also wanted a new shotgun.

Castiel watched the two muse and bicker until the sun had set, interrupting only to hand them another beer. Dean had this little smile on his face, and every so often he'd glance at Castiel and the smile would grow. Strong fingers settled on his thigh, and Castiel stroked his hand.

When they finally got up to leave, Dean and Bobby had already made a bet on what Sam would forget at school when he came home. Dean bet his hairbrush, Bobby bet his laptop, and Castiel, chiming in for the first time, bet his socks.

They left laughing, and Castiel smiled all the way back to his house until the Winchester parked the car.

"Dean?" he asked quietly, little bits of South Dakota snow falling around the car.

"Yeah?" Dean glanced over at him with a little grin.

"Thank you. For everything."

Instead of responding, Dean pulled him in for a kiss, sliding his hands into Castiel's dark hair. Castiel stroked his thumb across Dean's jaw, tilting his head for a better angle.

 _I love you_ , he thought.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Thank you SwLilo and Tari4078 for reviewing! Reviews are my lifeblood.

Warning: this chapter contains minor assault and threats of rape, just so you know.

 **Chapter Thirteen**

Castiel fiddled with his tie instead of opening the car door. It felt too tight, too constricting. It made it difficult to breathe, and Castiel was sweating despite the chill in the air.

The door opened for him. "Stop messing with it, you look amazing," Dean took his twitching hands and pulled him out of the Impala.

"I'm not sure looking 'amazing' is appropriate for a funeral," he muttered, pulling his trenchcoat more tightly around him. If anyone looked amazing that day, it was Dean. Castiel lent him one of his thicker pea coats, and he looked like he'd stepped off the cover of an Armani magazine.

"C'mon, I see Gabe over there," Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel's waist and guided him towards the funeral home.

Gabriel was unusually somber, even for a funeral. He, much like Castiel, kept glancing around every minute or so. Maybe looking for Michael.

"Hello Gabriel," Castiel touched his brother's shoulder. "Do you need for us to do anything?"

Gabriel immediately pulled Castiel in for a hug. "I got everything. Thanks for coming, bro."

However on edge Castiel was, he'd always be there for Gabriel. The older Novak hated their father almost as much as Castiel did, but he had almost five years of good memories with the man. He had been happy with him before it all went to shit.

"Everything's set up over on plot one thirty-six," he informed them. "Service starts at eleven." He turned to Dean. "Sorry in advance for our relatives."

They tried to avoid said relatives, but there were too many to run from.

"Castiel, I'm so sorry for your loss," a stern redhead patted him daintily on the shoulder.

"Yours as well," Castiel said stiffly. "Dean, this is my Aunt Naomi. Aunt Naomi, this is my _partner,_ Dean Winchester." Dean didn't seem affected by the formal title. In fact, he reached out and took Castiel's hand.

Naomi's face hardened. "I see," she said coldly.

"Problem?" Dean said, his features set in the insult-him-I-dare-you look.

Naomi's eyes flickered between the two, silent. Then she turned abruptly on her heel. "Alistair, darling, it's so nice to see you!" and she rushed off.

Dean let out a breath. "Damn," he muttered.

"Yes, they're all like that," Castiel warned. "Aunt Naomi is one of the more polite ones."

A smarmy man started towards them, a weird half-smile on his face. "Castiel, I didn't think I'd see you here," he said, ignoring Dean and their joined hands completely.

Castiel tried to fall into a cold, robot-like demeanor. He locked his feelings far away so he could deal with all these people he hated. It was only ten minutes until they all had to move to his father's plot. He could get through ten minutes.

"Gabriel asked me to be here, so I am here," Castiel said mechanically. A little part of him, though, needed to rub Dean, his magnificent Dean, in all of their faces. "Dean, this is my cousin Magnus. Magnus, this is Dean Winchester, my _partner_."

Magnus made a face. "I thought you were out of that phase," he said with a frown. "Didn't your father send you to one of those camps?"

Castiel stayed motionless. "Not exactly."

Magnus sniffed. "He should have. If you ask me-"

"He didn't ask you," Dean growled.

Magnus blinked up at Dean a few times, shocked. No one had probably spoken back to Magnus in years. Castiel's lips twitched up minutely. "Let's go, Dean. Wouldn't want to miss watching my father being lowered into the ground."

Dean gave Magnus a sort of feral grin and pulled Castiel away, wrapping an arm securely around his waist.

"No offense," Dean said quietly, "but I hate these people."

"None taken, as I do too," Castiel snuggled a little closer to Dean.

The rest of the family mostly avoided the two from then on. The more affection Dean showed, the wider the space around them became, and Castiel was relieved. Maybe he could get through this in one piece.

They unfortunately were seated in the first row as immediate family was, with Dean on Castiel's right and Gabriel on his left. The man next to the coffin was not a priest, or a minister, or anyone religious. He was just a man from the funeral home, and Castiel thought that his father would be rolling in his casket right now.

Everyone took their seats, and the man began to speak. "We meet here today to honor and pay tribute to the life of James Novak, and to express our love and admiration for him." Castiel tuned out the majority of his words, focusing instead on Dean's thumb stroking the back of his hand.

"There has been a recent request by a Novak son who wishes to eulogize his father," the man said, and Castiel's head snapped up. Gabriel said there would be no eulogies, just a "Hey he's dead, eat our food and get out."

To Castiel's utter mortification, Michael Novak stepped up from wherever he was hiding and stood behind the little podium. Gabriel's eyes were stuck between murderous and resigned, and Dean's brow was furrowed in confusion.

"Friends, family," Michael began, "thank you all for coming. I know there was no eulogy planned for today, but I, as James' oldest son, needed to say goodbye to him."

Dean stiffened noticeably, and Castiel gripped tightly onto his hand. Michael glanced at Castiel, a predatory gleam in his eye.

"My father was a wonderful man," Michael began. "He was a pillar of the community, a loyal friend, and a righteous leader. Born to my poor grandparents, he fought his way to the top of life, earning a Juris Doctorate from Harvard where he met my late mother. It was a tragic day in all of our lives when she was killed."

Castiel closed his eyes. Only Michael could stab him in the heart with a few twisted words. He wanted to shout, _She died in childbirth!_ but he remained stony silent.

"My father did a lot of good work in his life, for the world, our community, and my family." The oldest Novak turned his cold, black eyes on Castiel. "I vow to continue his work to the very end."

Blood rushed in his ears. He gripped Dean's hand so tightly that it must have been unbearably painful, but the Winchester said nothing.

At the end of the service, everyone lined up and shuffled past his open casket to pay their last respects. Castiel hadn't seen the man's face in years, but when he approached the casket, it was like he was thirteen all over again.

"Enjoy hell," he said to his father's cold form before turning his eyes away for the last time.

Gabriel approached Dean and Castiel quickly. "I thought he wasn't gonna be here, I'm so sorry Cassie," Gabriel glared daggers at someone behind him, and Castiel refused to turn around. He knew who it was.

"It's not your fault. I think it's time for us to leave now. I just need to stop by the bathroom for a moment." He was potentially going to throw up, and he wanted to avoid ruining Dean's leather seats.

"I'll pull the car around," Dean said quickly. He kissed Castiel on the cheek and was off.

"I'll keep an eye on him," Gabriel patted Castiel on the shoulder. "Go."

Castiel could feel Michael's stare on his back the whole way to the bathroom. It disturbed him more than he thought it would, and he thought it would completely rattle him. He could already feel the bile coming up his throat. Thank god there were entrances to the bathroom on the outside of the building.

Castiel managed to run inside and get to a stall before heaving, pushing his tie and trenchcoat out of the way at the last second. He hadn't eaten that morning, though Dean had urged him to, and the acid of his stomach burned his throat.

After a few moments, Castiel wiped his mouth and flushed the toilet. Now he could just go home, change into sweatpants, and cuddle with Dean. It was all-

"What's wrong, Castiel?" a patronizing voice said in the open stall doorway. "Did I scare you?"

 _Fuckfuckfuckfuck_. Cold terror gripped Castiel's chest, and for a second, he couldn't breathe. It had been almost ten years since Michael was this close to him, and that day ended very, very badly.

Once he was able to inhale some air, he stood as tall as he could. "Get out of my way, Michael."

"All of our good work," he muttered, stepping into the stall. "Father would be so disappointed."

"Stop it!" Castiel pressed his back against the wall. There was nowhere for him to run. "Just stop it!"

He raised his arms to protect himself, but Michael batted them away easily. He put a hand on Castiel's neck, thumb pressed to the hollow of his throat. It didn't cut off his air, just rested there- a reminder of what he could do. The touch burned worse than his stomach acid.

"Get off me!" he sobbed, hot tears now rolling down his face. Oh god, it was happening again. His body was clenching up, rejecting Michael though they were both still fully clothed. His heart was beating too fast to be healthy and his throat felt tight. "Get off me, please!"

He pushed weakly at Michael, who crowded into his space. "We shouldn't have let you go," he said. "I need to teach you another lesson. I'll save you, Castiel." Castiel turned his face and closed his eyes as Michael's hands moved downwards. Maybe it would be over quickly. It was a public place, and he couldn't have the stamina of a twenty-something anymore. If he didn't yell anymore, maybe Michael wouldn't hit him. Maybe-

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" a voice screamed, and then Michael was gone. Air rushed into Castiel's lungs, and sobs of relief heaved from his chest. Gabriel must have grabbed Michael by his collar and thrown him to the bathroom floor. Gabriel was the smallest of their family, Anna included, but he was deceptively strong. Paired with adrenaline and hatred, he was the Hulk.

Castiel slid to the floor and buried his head in his arms. "Go to Castiel," he heard Gabriel order, and suddenly there were gentle hands on his shoulder.

"Cas? Cas, sweetheart, come back to me." Gabriel was still screaming, but he could clearly hear Dean.

"Dean?" he asked, just to be sure.

"Yeah, Cas, it's me." Castiel looked up to see Dean's reddened face. Through his panicky haze, Castiel could see that Dean was using every ounce of self control not to go over to Michael and probably kill him.

Gabriel's cries grew fainter until he and Michael were out of the bathroom, leaving only Castiel and Dean.

"He's gone, Cas, Gabe got him. It's just me here." Dean seemed hesitant to touch Castiel, as if it would set him off, but that's all Castiel wanted.

"Get him off me," Castiel whispered.

"He's gone, Cas-"

"No, get _him_ off me." Castiel grabbed for Dean's hands, putting them on his body. He pulled him closer, needing Dean's presence.

Dean understood and scooped Castiel into his lap, sliding out of the stall. "I got you, sweetheart, I got you," Dean repeated over and over again. He swept his hands over Castiel's back and carded his fingers through his hair, erasing Michael's poison touches. He kissed away all of Castiel's tears as the Novak fisted Dean's shirt tightly.

Though Castiel was six feet tall and decently muscular, Dean managed to fit him snugly into his lap. He swayed back and forth a little, rocking Castiel like a child and murmuring soothing noises into his hair.

Castiel didn't know how long they sat there in the funeral home bathroom, but eventually Dean's scent and gentle touches calmed him down, and the tears stopped. Castiel untangled his fingers from Dean's incredibly rumpled dress shirt, blood rushing back into the digits painfully.

He cleared his throat. "We can go now," he mumbled, moving to stand up. Dean helped him up, but pulled him to the sink.

"Just one more minute," he said, grabbing some paper towels and wetting them. He pressed the cold tissue to Castiel's eyes and down his face, which felt wonderful. He made Castiel rinse his mouth out, and loosened his tie a bit. "Now we can go."

They walked out of the bathroom hand in hand, Castiel doing his best to hold his head high. He didn't look around at his relatives. The only thing that mattered was Dean's rumbling black Impala, their ticket home.

Gabriel strode over to them, looking for all the world like he'd just run a marathon. He and Dean exchanged a look, but were otherwise silent. Castiel realized they were on either side of him like bodyguards. Part of him scoffed at that, because they were literally out in the open now with dozens of witnesses, but another part of him felt grateful that they cared so much.

Dean opened the door and Castiel got in. Gabriel pressed a kiss to Castiel's forehead, as he'd always done when they were younger. When the door closed, Gabriel and Dean talked a little bit in muffled voices before Dean got into the drivers seat.

He locked the doors and pulled away, merging onto the highway towards Castiel's house. "You have the rest of the week off," Dean informed him. "I do too."

"Gabriel's idea?" Dean nodded.

After another minute of silence, Dean asked, "Want to pick up anything for early dinner before we get home?"

Castiel smiled at him weakly. "Let's get home before talking about food."

"You got it," Dean sped up and twined his fingers through Castiel's.

He didn't know when Dean started calling Castiel's house 'home', but it made him happy. It meant that Dean had no intention of leaving him anytime soon. Castiel wanted to say it so badly: _I love you_. But it wasn't the right time, not after… what just happened. No, he'd do it right.

The rest of the day, Castiel had a hard time maintaining that decision. Dean was so loving to him that he nearly cried some more. Dean realized immediately that Castiel got kind of clingy when he was upset, and welcomed it.

When they got home, Dean stripped them both down and turned the shower on hot. He scrubbed Castiel's back, massaged shampoo into his hair, and kissed him chastely. He got out Castiel's favorite shirt of Dean's for him to wear, and he made Castiel sit on the kitchen counter with him while he sang Led Zeppelin off key and cooked bowtie pasta with Alfredo sauce.

His hugs were tight, his kisses were passionate, and he didn't treat Castiel like he was about to break. He treated Castiel like he was something strong, but belonged to Dean. And that was perfectly fine by him.

When they went to bed that night, Dean hummed "Hey Jude" until Castiel fell asleep peacefully.

Dean, on the other hand, was planning revenge. What Castiel didn't know wouldn't hurt him.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Thank you Tari4078 and all of those who have been reviewing! They really make my day, so don't be afraid to leave a few words!

So after that last episode, here is the beginning of the healing process.

 **Chapter Fourteen**

The next morning was when the anxiety hit again.

Castiel hadn't had an anxiety attack since he was twenty-six, and now, here he was, thirty-five and stumbling out of bed, gasping for air. Dean was up immediately, rubbing his back and mumbling, still half asleep.

That morning, Castiel cried on and off. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to hit Michael, but he also never wanted to see him ever again, so that hopefully wouldn't happen.

He yelled at Dean. For the first time since the two had met. It was over something so stupid. Dean was trying to make him eat, and he didn't want to, so he yelled. And then he cried, and Dean, being the blessing that he was, held him through it. He told Castiel that he didn't have to eat if he didn't want to, because no one was ever going to make him do something he didn't want to ever again. And he told him that there was also the alternative of ice cream, if he didn't want the ravioli.

That night, Castiel decided he might want to get a restraining order, just in case Michael tried to pull any more shit. Even after Gabriel's threats.

Wednesday, Castiel was just tired.

The television was on, but it was muted and Castiel paid it no attention. What he really wanted to do was take a vacation with Dean, somewhere remote and far away. He wondered if he could swing enough off time for them both.

There was a loud knock on the door. Three sharp raps, and Castiel made to go answer it.

"Sit, I got it," Dean walked by, pecking Castiel's hair as he went. He settled back down with a smile and stared at the muted tv again.

Dean peered through the little peep hole. "Who is it?" Castiel asked with mild curiosity.

Dean didn't look at him. "Go into the bedroom, Cas," Dean's voice was hard. That sent alarm bells ringing in his mind.

"Dean, who is it?" Castiel asked again, voice rising in pitch.

The Winchester turned, expression somber, and… angry? "It's Michael."

Castiel's eyes widened. This was exactly what he didn't want happening. This was exactly the crazy-as-shit move that Michael would pull. They weren't safe in Castiel's home anymore.

"Gabe shoved him into a taxi and told the driver to take him to the airport, but he obviously didn't get on a plane." Castiel clutched the cushion of his couch, and Dean put his hand on the doorknob. "Go into the bedroom. I'm going to make sure he gets on that plane."

Castiel stood. He was scared, so scared, but a wave of rage welled up. How _dare_ Michael come to Castiel's home? How dare he continue to threaten him? "I'm staying here," Castiel said, voice low, "but you do what you need to."

There was another sharp knock on the door, and Dean opened it.

Michael was there and immediately saw Castiel, but Dean blocked his way. "What the fuck do you want?" Dean spat.

"I'm here to see Castiel," Michael said, confidence still unwavering even with his sprained wrist, courtesy of Gabriel.

"That's a cryin' shame, cause you're never gonna see him again."

Michael gave him a patronizing smile. "You can't protect him forever. Once you see him for the filthy slut he is, then I can take him right back where he belongs."

Castiel took a step forward, maybe to yell something at Michael, but something in Dean snapped. He reared back and punched Michael in the face harder than Castiel thought possible. Michael stumbled back, holding his bloody nose. "What the hell?"

"Don't you _ever_ say another word about him!" Dean yelled. "If you ever come near the man I love again, come within ten miles of him, I swear to god _no one_ will find your body," he growled.

"Come no-"

Dean punched him again, and Castiel heard something crack. Michael fell backward off the step and to the ground, jaw bloody and possibly broken. "Get the fuck out," Dean said, then slammed the door and locked it.

Castiel watched the scene with surprise and immense satisfaction. And Dean's words…

"You love me?"

Dean was breathing heavily. "Damn right I do."

Something hot bloomed in Castiel's chest. Dean loved him. And that little display of strength there… He strode forward and pushed Dean against the wall, attacking his mouth with fervor. "I love you too," he said against his skin. Dean was shocked for a moment, but quickly got with the program.

Castiel pushed Dean's shirt up and scraped his blunt nails down his back, earning a shiver from the younger man. "Kinda hot," Castiel bit down on Dean's earlobe. "Didn't know how strong you were."

Dean groaned and clutched at Castiel's hair, the Novak sucking a red mark behind his ear. Castiel slotted their hips together and Dean bucked up into them. "Bed?" he gasped.

"Too far," Castiel growled. His hands found Dean's perfect ass and he lifted him, praising himself for his own strength. Dean wrapped his legs around Castiel's waist and allowed himself to be carried to the couch.

They toppled over onto the soft cushions, not once breaking apart. Castiel bit at Dean's reddened lips and Dean pulled at Castiel's shirt like he had a personal vendetta against it. "Off," he grunted.

Castiel ripped the shirt off and manhandled Dean's off of him.

Maybe it was seeing Dean defend him or maybe it was hearing him admit his love, probably both, but Castiel felt such a huge surge of need in his chest that it hurt. He mouthed at Dean's collarbone, beads of sweat already showing on his skin. They tasted wonderful.

"Cas," Dean murmured.

"Mmm?" he hummed, tracing his tongue down to one of Dean's nipples.

"I- fuck- I love you," he repeated, arching up into the warm wetness.

"God, I love you Dean," Castiel groaned into his skin, moving to give the other nipple attention. "So much."

Castiel nibbled down Dean's stomach to worship his cut abdominals, tracing the faint lines they made in his skin. His hand came down to brush teasingly over the bulge in Dean's pants, and he arched up with a cry.

Castiel pulled Dean's sweatpants and boxers off in one easy swoop, exposing his glorious length. Without giving Dean a chance to adjust, he swallowed him down as far as he could go.

Dean moaned wantonly, the sound echoing off Castiel's vaulted ceilings. He threaded his fingers through Castiel's hair, tugging just hard enough to send sparks down his spine.

"Pants- ahh- off, Cas," Dean commanded.

With some fumbling, Castiel managed to throw off both his pants and briefs. He crawled back up Dean's form and rutted against him, both men groaning. A small part of Castiel dug deep into his fantasy vault, back to before Dean was his personal assistant. He remembered when the Winchester's body was a mystery that he could only guess at.

Here he was, over a month later, and Dean's body was now like home to him, every inch of skin familiar and welcoming. The two had already enacted a few of Castiel's old fantasies without Dean actually knowing, and another sprung to mind.

"Off the couch," Castiel growled, scrambling up from the cushions himself. Dean blinked at the sudden loss of contact, but obeyed nonetheless.

"Where do you want me?" he purred, nipping along Castiel's jaw. The older man moaned into his hair; Dean would be the death of him.

"Over the back of the couch," Castiel breathed against Dean's skin.

Dean shuddered visibly. "Fuck yeah."

After a bit of not-as-sexy fumbling and some laughter, Dean put a cushion on the back of the couch and bent over it, ass in the air, a perfect height for Castiel.

"Some lube's in the kitchen from a few days ago," Dean mumbled into the seat of the couch.

"In a minute," Castiel murmured, squeezing Dean's firm ass. He parted his cheeks and nosed his way towards Dean's center, feeling the Winchester tremble under him.

He licked at Dean slowly, feeling the ring of muscle clench and unclench. He was being a tease, and Dean knew it. "C'mon, Cas," he mumbled, trying in vain to push himself closer.

With a grin, Castiel acquiesced and dragged the flat of his tongue over Dean's entrance.

"Ngh," Dean choked, squirming.

Castiel licked him thoroughly, until he could fit a finger in to the second knuckle without lube. "Cas, please," the Winchester gasped.

Castiel nearly ran into the kitchen. He was hard enough to cut diamonds, and it took a little while longer than he thought to find the lube, which was in the spice cabinet. When he came back, he saw Dean trying to work himself open and gasping into the cushions.

"Fuck, Dean," Castiel breathed. He opened the bottle with fumbling fingers and nearly upended it into his hand. One of his fingers immediately joined Dean's, the cool lube easing the way for both digits.

Castiel stared at their fingers, working in tandem to prep Dean. It was probably the sexiest thing Castiel had ever seen, and he couldn't help but give himself a few strokes. He added another finger and found the younger man's prostate.

Dean cried out loudly, strung out and overstimulated from the day's activities. "Cas, you need to fuck me right now," Dean grunted, pushing their fingers out of him.

Castiel didn't need to be told twice. With one solid stroke, he sheathed himself in Dean's tight heat.

No matter how many times they had sex, Castiel would never get used to the feeling of Dean's hot, velvety channel clenching around him. It always made him see spots. He bottomed out, and both men let out a huge breath.

Dean's voice was tight with tension. "If you don't move, I swear to god-"

Whatever his swear would have been was cut off as Castiel thrust sharply into him. He cried out, high pitched and needy. "More!"

"Bossy," Castiel growled, but obeyed Dean's demand. He blanketed the Winchester with his torso, mouthing along his shoulder blades. Their sex was mostly slow and sensual, pleasure building leisurely until they burst. This time, Castiel pounded relentlessly into Dean, slow and sensual out the window.

"FuckyesCas," Dean babbled into the cushion, toes nearly lifting from the floor. "Love you."

"Love you," Castiel mumbled into Dean's skin. "God I do."

Dean was already clenching around him, but Castiel pulled himself back from the edge. A fast start meant a fast finish, but he wasn't ready to let go yet. He gripped Dean's shoulders for purchase, pushing the younger man down onto his length as he thrust forward.

With a loud yell, Dean came suddenly and without warning, body bowing as if he were trying to escape the sheer force of his own pleasure.

"Almost there," Castiel grunted, Dean now boneless and seemingly content under him. He let out a breathy moan every time Castiel struck his prostate. In less than a minute, Castiel was tipping forward, shooting into Dean with the force of a tsunami as electricity rocketed up his spine.

He collapsed against Dean, the two of them draped weakly over the back of the couch.

"Do you dry-clean couch cushions?" Dean muttered, and Castiel barked out a laugh. He pulled out of Dean, and the two of them fell directly on the floor behind the couch.

"You're perfect," Dean mumbled, nuzzling Castiel's jaw. "Fuck anyone who tells us otherwise."

"You're perfect," Castiel sighed. "You deal with me and all my shit."

"It's a pleasure," Dean said, and when Castiel looked down, the Winchester was grinning up at him. "Sometimes literally."

Castiel chuckled, and they lapsed into a nap-like silence.

"Are you awake?" Castiel whispered.

"Hmm?" Dean hummed drowsily. "Yeah, 'course." Which sounded like a lie.

"If you're not, we can keep sleeping on the floor," Castiel smiled into his hair. "But if you are, I suggest a shower, stir fry, and a Rocky marathon."

Dean, in his blissed-out state, giggled. "Love it when you talk dirty."

o o o

Castiel decided to go back to work on Thursday, though he technically had the week off. Since Dean punched Michael, it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The look of pain and fear on his face… It told Castiel that Michael wouldn't be terrorizing him again any time soon.

Sadly, he forgot how much he sometimes hated work. Specifically, Zachariah.

Castiel hadn't been sitting at his desk for more than twenty minutes when his door banged open, an angry-looking Zachariah storming into the room.

Dean was following close behind. "I'm so sorry, he just ran past me-"

"Quite alright, Dean," Castiel pacified him. Dean moved towards the door, but stood curiously by. "Mr. Adler, what can I do for you?"

"What can you do for me?" the balding man fumed. "I was just taken off the Colt case! You're giving me busywork!"

Castiel's eyes narrowed. He felt anger at this man, and he wasn't holding it well. "Mr Adler, I was notified recently that you were absent for your last two meetings with our partners, and at the meeting you did show up to, you threatened them outright."

Zachariah sputtered. "When you're a lawyer, sometimes you have to make difficult decisions."

"No," Castiel stood and buttoned his suit jacket, eye twitching a bit. "You are here to help and protect this company from threats. The way I see it, you are now the threat. You are rude, arrogant, lazy, and quite frankly, destructive." Zachariah's eyes widened. "I should have done this a long time ago."

"No," Zachariah mumbled.

"Zachariah Adler, you are fired." Damn, that felt good. "Please collect your things. You will be paid in lieu of notice time. I will speak with Mr. Novak in HR about contacting you with your payment." Castiel sat back in his chair, trying to hard to hold the smile on his face back.

Dean opened the door, the sound alerting Zachariah. He held a hand towards the open frame and smiled. Without another word, Zachariah stormed out.

"Cas," Dean closed the door. "You're a badass."

The smile spread across Castiel's face. "Thank you. That felt good."

"Good riddance to the guy," Dean muttered. He plopped down onto one of Castiel's chairs. "Do you know anyone you want to hire in his place? Or are you just gonna promote someone?"

Castiel sat back, thinking about the members of that department. The majority of them were young or new to the field. "I'm not sure."

"Well," Dean looked at his nails. "I have a professional opinion that you can totally disregard if it's stupid."

That was what Castiel loved about working with Dean. He still treated Castiel like he was his boss, but wasn't afraid to voice his opinions. "I doubt it's stupid," Castiel leaned forward. "Tell me."

"I heard from Charlie that Balthazar's done with that big case in Chicago, and I did some research on him. His resume is awesome, and he hasn't lost a single case in twelve years."

Castiel's eyes lit up. "Balthazar. That's brilliant."

"And since he moved back from London and is hotel hopping in Illinois, he's in a great position to find somewhere to live wherever he wants, which could be Sioux Falls." Dean scratched the back of his head. "I also looked up some house listings after Charlie described his last few apartments, and I found one that he might like in his price range that's like ten minutes from here."

Castiel's mouth was open in shock. "When did you do all this?"

"It was on Wednesday, when you fell asleep during Rocky II." Dean grinned. "I didn't think you were going to fire Zachariah so soon, but I hoped it was coming. I hate the guy. So I did research, y'know, for fun."

Castiel laughed in astonishment. "How do you keep getting more perfect?"

Dean grinned. "I take it you like the idea?"

"Of course!" he almost bounced up and down in his seat. "Call Gabriel up, he's in charge of that stuff."

Dean opened the door to find Gabriel already there, with… a cake? "That was quick," Dean murmured.

"I heard that a certain CEO finally fired a certain bag of dicks!" he sang, holding out a store-bought cake. "Happy Cassie-is-a-badass day!"

"That's what I said!" Dean smiled and appraised the cake.

"Word travels fast," Castiel got up and joined the circle. "You just wanted an excuse to eat that cake, didn't you?"

Gabriel stuck his fork directly into the dessert. "That's beside the point."

Castiel cut himself a piece away from Gabriel's and sat down. "Dean was about to call you up," he said, swallowing a bite of the admittedly delicious cake. "He had an idea about replacing Zachariah, and I think it's amazing."

Dean relayed all the information he told Castiel to Gabriel, and the older Novak smiled. "I'm so on it. It could be his early Christmas present!" He continued on about Christmas, and the topic changed from Christmas presents to Christmas strippers. Castiel zoned out, eating his cake with a smile.

He was slowly ridding his life of all the bad people in it with help from the people he loved most. The next step, which would come in only a few days, would be to meet the person that Dean loved most: Sam.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** This chapter is very short, but it does what it needs to. The next chapter will be the last, then there will be an epilogue. Thank you all for the kind words and support!

And to NorthernShingami, the third brother is Lucifer, but I always thought of him as the type to rebel by running off to Europe, getting an easy job and living off the Novak money, and dating many foreign models. He, sadly, will not be making an appearance, but serves to prove that their family isn't close as all.

 **Chapter Fifteen**

Dean was positively bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Oh you just wait, you'll love 'im. He's a guy you can talk books with for hours. I don't understand most of it, but you went to Amherst and Dartmouth, right? Yeah, you'll get along great. He's got a grade A bitchface, but don't let that fool you, the sasquatch is a teddy bear…"

Castiel smiled at Dean as he babbled about his younger brother in the airport. He wore the stereotypical "chauffeur" hat and had a sign that had "SAMMY" written in big, bold letters. He wanted to embarrass him as much as possible, but he'd said that with the biggest smile on his face.

"You think he'll like the present I got him?" Dean asked, once again worried that it wouldn't live up to his standards.

Dean always said he was terrible at giving gifts, but he came up with the idea all on his own. Castiel simply went with him. Apparently, Sam was a secret Pearl Jam fan, and Dean managed to get a concert pamphlet signed by every band member.

"He'll love it. This is going to be a wonderful Christmas, I promise." Castiel tried to reign in his grin. Gabriel pulled a few strings and managed to procure an amazing gift for Sam. And Castiel's gift for Dean… it could either go horribly wrong, or be the best gift of Dean's life. He was hoping for the latter.

He talked to Bobby about it, and Bobby said that he thought it was a pretty good idea, but it was really up to Dean.

It was then that an incredibly tall man shuffled down the escalator with a duffel thrown over his shoulder. He grinned, and though they had few physical similarities, their smiles were exactly the same. It was Sam.

"Your plane was late, bitch!" Dean called. Strange first sentence, but he learned never to predict what came out of Dean's mouth.

"Freak rainstorm in California, jerk!" Sam dropped his duffel and clapped Dean in a brotherly hug, nearly lifting him off the floor.

"Jesus, you've been working out," Dean grunted, pushing Sam away playfully.

Sam shrugged. "No debate team in college. I gotta do something to keep myself occupied."

It was then that Dean realized that Castiel was standing behind him. "Oh, I nearly forgot. Sam, this is Cas. Cas, this is Sammy."

"It's Sam," he corrected with a smile, shaking Castiel's hand firmly. "I've heard a lot about you."

Castiel's brows rose and he glanced at Dean, who colored slightly. "Really?"

"Yeah, he's been mooning over you for months."

Dean punched Sam's shoulder and Castiel tried to suppress a stupid smile. "Alright, alright, let's get your bags. Did you forget anything?" Dean glanced at Castiel, reminding him of their bet. "Maybe your hairbrush?"

"Nope," Sam slung the duffel over his shoulder.

Dean's shoulders sagged. "Dammit," he muttered. Sam gave him a weird look.

They soon saw Sam's bag on the carousel and grabbed it. When they slid into the Impala, Castiel relinquished the passenger's seat to Sam. He sat in the middle of the back seat, a perfect place to hear the conversations.

Dean asked Sam questions about his life the whole ride, the ever doting brother. They talked about his classes, his job, the girl he was seeing. They chatted, and Castiel became more and more sure that the Christmas gifts coming for them would be perfect.

Sam then asked Dean if he could borrow a pair or two of socks, because he packed in such a hurry that he forgot. With a scowl, Dean handed Castiel five bucks, and Sam just shook his head.

o o o

It was that evening that Sam motioned for Castiel to follow him outside, probably for the 'brother talk". Castiel was ready for this. Sam handed him a beer, and they watched the setting sun in comfortable silence for a minute.

"I told you I've heard a lot about you," Sam said quietly. Castiel nodded. "I've heard about how much Dean loves you." Sam paused. "Dean doesn't really talk about emotional things. He hates 'chick-flick moments' or whatever. And yet, he told me how crazy he was for you. That's a really big deal for him." Castiel smiled down at his drink. Sam spoke again, "I'm sure Dean's told you how close we are."

"He has," Castiel said. "You're the most important person in the world to him."

Sam scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, but continued. "And he is to me. You know about our parents. Dean was like my dad, and my mom, and my brother, all rolled in to one for our entire lives. Everything he does, he does for other people. So you could imagine my surprise about hearing how hard he fought to get you."

Castiel was quiet. He had never thought of it that way. Dean becoming his partner always seemed like he was giving himself as a gift to Castiel, like the Novak was granted the privilege to be with him. He didn't think much about what he meant to Dean. How Dean wanted him for his own.

"The only two people he's ever said 'I love you' to are you and me. I know I hurt him when I went to Stanford, even when he told me to go. But at least I'm his brother, and I have some sort of cosmic requirement to love him and be there for him." The corner of Sam's lips pulled up. Then he turned serious again.

"You don't, though. You have no obligation to stay with him. And that scares him. When I talk to him on the phone, he says, 'Cas is still with me, so it's a good day.' You mean so much to him. I need to know," Sam looked down at him. "Does he mean the same to you?"

Castiel looked at Sam for a minute, then down to his shoes. How did he sum up what he felt for Dean Winchester? Before Dean, he didn't laugh. He didn't really cry, or get angry. He didn't _feel_ anything but a kind of numb self-loathing. And Dean tore all that to shreds and gave him life again. Dean was so very vital, so alive, with a soul that shone so bright he was still wondering why he wasn't blind. Dean cared for him despite the difficult events of the past several weeks. He was loyal and protective, as evident when he made it clear that no one, especially not Michael, would hurt Castiel. He cared enough to leave Michael to Gabriel and instead comforting Castiel, which must have been difficult. He was passionate and unabashed in his personality. He was perfect.

Not only that, but he had truly saved Castiel. Not just from Michael, from the most difficult thing that can torment a man: himself. Castiel never thought he would be allowed to love someone like Dean, let alone be loved by him, but every day, little by little, Dean was showing him that he was worth something. Dean made him understand that he wasn't some deity to look upon with fear or awe. He was just a human. And Castiel wasn't a tainted sinner. He was just a human. They were both human, both equal, and both worth something.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with him," Castiel said quietly. "I couldn't survive without him, I know that. He's the best thing that will ever happen to me."

Castiel thought of Dean, in all the time he'd known him. How Dean always fell asleep with his head on Castiel's chest so he could hear his heartbeat. He would always touch Castiel, just a brush on his arm or a kiss on his shoulder, just to let Castiel know he was there. Sometimes, he'd smile at Castiel when he thought Castiel wasn't looking. The smile was just the slightest tilt of his lips, eyes warm and lidded. It always made Castiel's heart flutter.

"There aren't words to express how much I love him." There was a little prickling warmth behind his eyes, but the Novak held back the tears. He would _not_ break down at such an important moment.

He glanced up at Sam now, a look of relief in the younger Winchester's eyes. In a move that Castiel did not expect, Sam pulled him close and hugged him. "Finally," he mumbled.

Sam pulled away somewhat awkwardly, but smiled. "I've never thought someone was good enough for him, but I can tell you are. Welcome to the family."

Castiel took a deep breath, the warmth in his chest almost painful now. The two most important people in Dean's life accepted him. Bobby called him 'son' and Sam called him 'family'. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he wiped it away quickly.

"I don't know what Dean's told you about my family, but being a part of yours is an honor." Castiel cleared his throat, reigning in the ridiculously sappy things he wanted to say. "Thank you."

"Let's go back inside." Sam turned to go, but Castiel stopped him.

"Wait, I have a question for you." He described his Christmas gift idea to Sam. "Do you think he'd like that?"

Sam looked at him in awe. "Y-Yes. That's amazing, Cas." He gave a little surprised laugh. "He may fight you a little, but… wow… yeah, he'll love it."

Castiel grinned. "Now we can go back inside."

Dean's present was solidified. All he had to do was call Gabriel, and he could call himself Santa.

In the other room, Dean was thinking the same thing. He read a text from Gabriel with a smile.

 **Gabe Novak** : _Two weeks and it's done._


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** So the books in this chapter are real and actually pretty interesting, if anyone loves weird facts and little known information.

This is also the last chapter before the epilogue. Thank you so much to everyone who's read, followed, favorited, etc. I hope this has been as amazing of a journey for you as it's been for me. So without further ado…

In this episode: life improves exponentially.

 **Chapter Sixteen**

Castiel woke up with a dead-to-the-world Dean, hogging the blankets and poking him in the hip with his morning wood. The Novak grinned. It was usually Dean who was awake first, but he couldn't let an opportunity like this slip away. Not on Christmas morning.

Castiel grasped the bottle of lube on the bedside table with one hand and moved very slowly under the blankets, so as to not wake Dean. The younger man stirred but remained asleep, rolling onto his back. Castiel grinned and shifted himself carefully until he was under the blanket, between Dean's legs.

His hard-on looked almost painful, and Castiel took pity on it. With very gentle touches, he licked up Dean's shaft, going slowly from base to tip. A heavy breath escaped Dean's lips. Castiel added a little more pressure and Dean's hips flexed, breath turning into a moan. Castiel suckled gently on the head, and Dean woke with a strangled sound.

"What- ngh," he choked as Castiel took Dean's member all the way into his mouth. Castiel smiled around it, one hand coming up to rest on his twitching hip. With clumsy movements, the blanket was pushed off, revealing the best wake up Dean had ever received.

"Cas," he moaned, fingers threading through his dark hair. Castiel popped the top off the lube during Dean's moan, coating a few fingers in it inconspicuously. The digit brushed against Dean's furled entrance and the man jumped, moan cut off sharply.

Castiel was almost afraid he was going to tell him to stop, but a little breathy whimper came from him instead. "Yes," he sighed. His legs spread wider, and Castiel hummed around Dean's member.

Dean was still relaxed from his deep sleep and didn't even twitch when Castiel's finger breached the ring of muscle. Castiel worked him open, keeping him just shy of orgasm until he had three fingers in and Dean was pulling sharply on Castiel's hair.

"Pleeeease, Cas, pleeeease," he begged in a sleep-roughed voice, whimpering when Castiel pulled away.

Castiel was hard enough to cut diamonds, and he pushed Dean onto his side, spooning up against his back. Castiel's aching member pressed against the cleft of Dean's ass and his hand spread firmly against his stomach. He pressed little kisses to Dean's neck. The younger man wiggled his hips and Castiel acquiesced, pushing slowly into him.

Castiel pressed his forehead into Dean's shoulder as he bottomed out, both men seeing stars. Dean was always so _tight_ , and Castiel breathed deeply to calm himself.

After a moment, Castiel shifted Dean's hips next to him and brushed directly against his prostate, a desperate moan falling from his throat. "Cas," he choked. Damn, he was already so close. Why didn't they do this every morning?

Castiel pulled out only a few inches and eased himself back in, grinding slowly up into Dean. The sounds of the Winchester's breathy moans filled the air, interspersed with Castiel's soft grunts. He kept his pace slow, keeping Dean's orgasm out of reach as his built. It was always better when they came together.

It was an embarrassing few minutes until he was close, and he slid his hand down to wrap around Dean's weeping length, stroking firmly. He twisted his fist at the head, and Dean clamped down tightly around Castiel. He stroked Dean through it, though his head whited out with pleasure.

They came down slowly, still connected. "Morning," Dean mumbled sleepily.

"Merry Christmas, Dean," Castiel grinned.

"Very merry," he chuckled. "Christmas shower?"

"Then Christmas cinnamon rolls."

Dean sighed contently. "I fuckin' love you."

o o o

They arrived at Bobby's house to find almost everyone already there, munching on Ellen and Jody's Christmas snacks. Castiel was a little overwhelmed by the welcome he received, loud words and hearty slaps on the back bringing a little startled smile to his face.

"Okay, guys, let the man breathe," Dean slipped his hand into the Novak's. "But yeah, welcome," Dean said quietly to him.

Castiel squeezed his hand. "Thank you Dean. This is already the best Christmas I've had in a long time."

Dean grinned this big, beautiful grin that crinkled the skin near his eyes and dimpled his cheeks. "Oh, you just wait."

The younger man turned to say something to Ellen, and Castiel inwardly jumped with excitement. If all went well, this would be Dean's best Christmas in a long time as well. Speaking of which…

"Bobby," Castiel called, making his way towards the older man.

"Castiel," Bobby smiled. "Good to see you here."

"Good to be here." Castiel smiled, then squashed it down. "I was wondering if my brother Gabriel might be able to stop by for a few minutes later? He's assisting me with a gift."

Bobby pressed his lips together, but something twinkled in his eyes. "'Course. Dean!"

"Yeah?" Dean appeared over Castiel's shoulder quickly.

"Call Gabe, tell him he should come over." There was something in Bobby's voice that was vaguely suspicious, but maybe Dean had just told him about the eccentric Gabriel Novak.

"Sure thing," he said, obviously repressing a laugh. He was probably trying to imagine mixing Gabriel with everyone here, which was pretty funny to imagine. They'd see soon enough.

The older Novak showed up twenty minutes later, just in time to see a large pumpkin pie set on the table.

"Perfect timing," Dean grinned, slapping Gabriel on the back.

"As per usual," Gabriel squeezed Dean's shoulder and wrapped Castiel in a hug. "Merry Christmas, bro."

"To you too, Gabriel." Castiel smiled at the shorter man. "I'm sure we're all very excited to see what you'll bring to this Christmas." His eyebrows raised imperceptibly, trying to help his brother find the double meaning. Part two of his gift wouldn't be possible without him, after all.

"He'll definitely make this a memorable day," Dean smiled, giving Gabriel the same sort of expression Castiel had given him. Was he up to something? His smile was teasing; he probably just recognized the shenanigans that Gabriel's presence would bring about.

"It's me we're talking about, of course this will be your best Christmas," Gabe rolled his eyes, as if it were obvious. His acting was impeccable. "And I gave up Christmas strippers for this, so you better be honored." That was not acting, and Castiel laughed.

Gabriel eventually wandered over to join Jody and Ellen in the kitchen, no doubt attempting to coerce something sweet from either of them. Castiel and Dean sat with Jo, Bobby, and Rufus, listening to a tale about when Rufus lost a bet to Bobby back in their college days and how hard it was to get the glitter out of his hair.

"Swear to god, there's still some there," he huffed.

It was only an hour or two later when Jo announced loudly that it was time to open presents. Everyone had their own respective spots around Bobby's living room for their piles. They sat, ripping paper and exchanging 'thank you's for everything from new phones to socks. Castiel was touched that he received his own pile.

Jody gave him a tea cozy with a blue tie on it, like he wore, with a note that said, "Merry Christmas, Boss." Ellen gave him a book called _Extraordinary Origins of Everyday Things_ by Charles Panati, and Jo gave him _The Encyclopedia of Things that Never Were_ by Robert Ingpen, two books that he'd been dying to get his hands on. Bobby gave him a waffle maker at Dean's urging. Even Rufus Turner, whom he'd never met until that day, gave him three pairs of argyle socks.

Before Dean could give him whatever it was that he'd gotten, Castiel pulled Dean to his feet. They were near the side of the room, but Bobby suddenly turned quiet, and a little hush fell over the room. Dean didn't seem to notice or care.

The two stood facing each other, a shy smile on Dean's face. Castiel held a simple envelope in his hand. "Is it a gift card? So romantic of you," Dean teased.

Castiel allowed himself a little smile before dropping into what Dean would call his Business Face. To pull this off, he'd need to act the part. "Before I give you this gift, I have to tell you something."

Dean leaned forward expectantly. "Yes?"

Castiel's heart pounded, but he tilted his chin up, mask of stoicism on his face. "Dean, you're fired."

Confusion passed over Dean's face, then panic. "What? Cas, why-"

"Hey, hey," Castiel dropped his Business Face for a moment and took Dean's hand. He looked like he was about to cry. "Let me finish."

Dean took a calming breath and stepped back, arms crossed and a glare on his face. He looked a little menacing, and a little adorable. Castiel resumed Business Face. "Now that you no longer hold your position at Novak & Sons, I'd like to invest in your new business venture."

Confusion passed over Dean's face again as Castiel held out the envelope. Dean only stared at it. The Novak waved it a little, and Dean snatched at it, giving Castiel a strange look. Blood rushed in his ears as the younger man tore at the envelope paper.

Dean stared at the contents for several moments and covered his mouth. "I don't understand."

Castiel glanced at Bobby and smiled. "Read it out loud."

Dean's voice was quiet as he held up a check. "Pay to the order of Winchester Restoration, seventy-five thousand dollars, for the beginning of his new company." He looked at Castiel, still confused. "Winchester Restoration?"

"Your new classic car restoration shop," Castiel couldn't help but grin. "You've always wanted to restore old cars, and I think it's about time you started."

"Cas," Dean held the check at arm's length. "This- this is too much. I can't-"

"Yes, you can." The Novak put his hands on Dean's shoulders. "I want to see you doing something you love, and as much as I enjoy you being my personal assistant, you won't find that in an office building."

Dean was still silent, staring at Castiel. He continued. "You'll be partnered with Singer Auto to get you on your feet. Bobby's already agreed to it." The older man smiled. "You won't be at a loss for clientele either. Classic car lovers here have to drive all the way to Minneapolis for a decent restoration shop. And I know yours will be more than decent."

"It's _seventy-five thousand dollars_ ," Dean shook his head. "That's way too much."

"I'd estimate with construction and average building expenses, that's just enough." He grinned. Dean protested, but Castiel could see the corners of his open mouth turning up. "Plus, there are a few other investors interested in your company. You'll have a line of customers the second your doors open." Dean was still quiet, and Castiel began to worry. "It's a lot of work, I know, but I just thought-"

The breath was knocked out of Castiel as Dean nearly tackled him in a hug. The Novak sucked in a breath and gripped his love tightly. "You're an angel, Cas," he whispered. After a moment, he released Castiel and stared at the check again. "So I'm going to be doing my favorite hobby for a living?" he asked.

"Yes," Castiel smiled. Dean choked out a laugh before pulling him into a searing kiss.

"Holy shit," he mumbled against his skin.

Just then, they heard three sharp raps on the door, right on time. Gabriel got up to answer, and Castiel pulled away. "I also have a present for Sam," he said, turning to his spot in the room. "Well, the Novak family has a present for Sam."

"Really?" the younger Winchester's eyes widened. Castiel glanced at Dean, who was smiling like an idiot.

"Of course," Castiel returned the smile. "That's what family does for each other." Gabriel strode into the living room, accompanied by none other than Balthazar. Castiel cleared his throat. "Sam, this is my brother Gabriel."

Sam rose from his seat. "Yeah, I remember you. You came to talk at Stanford." Sam said, getting his first good look at the man that day. "Nice to see you again."

"Right back at ya," Gabe smacked his gum and shook Sam's hand. He stepped back and smiled mischievously. "Remember how, when I was at Stanford, I had anyone looking for jobs submit a resume to me?"

Sam's brow furrowed. "Yeah, but your company didn't have any openings."

"Well," Gabriel grinned. "We just got a new head of our legal department, courtesy of Dean-o over there." Dean's chest swelled with pride, and Balthazar stepped up.

"Balthazar Roché, pleasure," the Brit smirked. "It was your brother's idea to invite me to work at Novak & Sons, and I'm pleased to say it's caused me much less stress than my old criminal defense cases. However, I've made some very monumental changes to the staff, which means I'm a bit short now." Sam's eyes had widened to the size of dinner plates. "I saw your resume, and I'm quite impressed. I'd like to offer you a paid internship at our company over the summer. If you do well, we might even have a permanent spot for you, with law school scholarship opportunities."

Both Sam and Dean's mouths hung open. "Oh my god," Sam breathed. "Really?"

"Really," Balthazar held out a hand, and Sam shook it enthusiastically.

"Thank you so much! This means so much to me." The younger Winchester was clearly holding himself back from babbling about how much he wanted that job.

"He's doing Balthazar a favor," Castiel whispered to Dean, who was squeezing the shit out of his hand. "He's always wanted interns to impress, and he adores having employees to shower with gifts as well as work. He's like Oprah, with Gabriel's sense of mischief."

"Sam looks so happy," Dean's face fell and he turned to Castiel. "As much as it pains me to say this, don't hire him just cause he's my brother. He'll understand if you take back the offer."

Castiel grinned. "Gabriel actually gave Balthazar the resume without Sam's name on it." He traced patterns over Dean's fingers. "Balthazar said yes to him before ever learning his identity. Sam's resume really is impressive." Dean sat back with a little dazed look on his face.

Castiel knew what Dean was thinking- this would significantly lessen the amount of money Dean would have to send him every month, _and_ it could secure Sam a job close to his brother. They could be close again, just like Dean wanted so badly.

"Thank you Gabriel, Balthazar. I'll see you at Gabriel's house this evening." Castiel bid him farewell, but the two didn't move.

"Actually," Dean stood and pulled Castiel up. It was his turn to be confused. "I have a present for you too. Gabe helped, and so did Balthazar." Castiel's eyes flickered to his brother's and Balthazar's, and they just smiled at him, Gabriel looking prouder than ever. He held out a manilla folder, which Dean took.

"Go on," Gabe urged the Winchester.

Dean could barely hold in his excitement as he handed over the thin, sealed envelope. Castiel automatically tried to guess what could be in it, but his mind was blank. His adrenaline had faded from the high of seeing how happy Dean was, and it was hard to do anything but smile.

"It's technically public record," Balthazar began, but Gabriel elbowed him in the ribs.

He carefully tore the thick paper and slid the metal prongs free. There was only one sheet of paper in it, and as Castiel read, the envelope fluttered to the floor.

There were lots of words on it, but Castiel's eyes zeroed in on once sentence towards the top. _For the crimes of statutory rape and accessory to severe and prolonged child abuse, Michael Angelus Novak is hereby sentenced to twenty-five years in prison without possibility of bail._

Someone had been talking, but Castiel didn't hear much. "I testified, and Anna, and our old neighbor, Mr. Cain." That was Gabriel. "We didn't want you to have to go through everything again."

"I had a very solid case." That was Balthazar. "We were just shy of having enough, and I managed to get him angry. He practically screamed a confession to the entire courtroom. I really am good."

There was a hand on Castiel's face and he looked up, vision blurry. Was he crying? "Does this mean…?" he trailed off.

Dean wiped a few tears away. "Yeah. He's gone, Cas. For good this time."

Michael was gone. Michael was in jail for twenty-five years without possibility of bail. There would be no more assaults, no more hiding, not even a threat of a phone call. Michael was getting punished for everything he'd put Castiel through. Castiel was free.

He blinked at Dean, paper gripped tightly enough to crumple in his hands. His chest clenched almost painfully, and then the paper was gone and his arms were around Dean's neck, squeezing the life out of him. He was crying, that much was evident. Dean's t-shirt must be soaked. "Thank you," he gasped. "Thank you."

He felt a hand on his back. Castiel turned to his older brother and pulled him in for a hug, the shorter man chuckling. "Merry Christmas, bro," he said. Castiel had an arm around Gabe and an arm around Dean, and he felt more arms around him. There was Balthazar, and Sam, and even Bobby. Castiel's face hurt from all his smiling, and his heart swelled so large he felt as if he were about to burst.

Everyone pulled away except Dean, who held him a little longer. "Good Christmas?" he murmured.

Castiel laughed through his tears. "The best I've ever had. I love you so much."

"Love you more," Dean said into his hair.

"Now c'mon, everyone," Bobby said gruffly, as if he were tearing up as well. "All this turkey ain't gonna eat itself."

Castiel had forgotten that there was an audience for everything that had just happened, but he didn't care. His emotional quality of life had just shot through the roof. This would change his life. He already felt changed, lighter somehow. There weren't words for how happy he was.

All because of Dean.

He looked at the younger man, Seated in the middle of Castiel and Sam. He was talking animatedly, and Jo and Ellen were laughing, but his hand was on Castiel's thigh, tracing random patterns. The younger Novak had to wipe another tear away.

He didn't deserve Dean. Dean had done everything for him. He had literally fixed Castiel's life. Everything he used to know had been turned upside down and had been replaced by this beautiful existence. Looking around the table, he knew that these people would be a better family than any he'd had before, and Gabriel was right there with them, making an inappropriate joke at the end of the table. He had no reason to be afraid anymore. His body and mind both belonged to him. He had free will. Dean had given him all of that.

For a moment, he looked back a few months when he understood that he wasn't important, that he was tarnished and undeserving and needed to work off his sins for the rest of his life.

As if sensing his thoughts, Dean turned to look at him. He grinned that blinding lopsided grin of his and pecked Castiel quickly on the cheek. Just the little touch sent warmth and love through him. He _did_ deserve Dean. He must have done something right, if Dean wanted him in his life. If what Sam said was true, then he was just as important to Dean as the Winchester was to him.

He didn't see Sam's look of awe at the little display of affection. He didn't see Jo elbow her mother and remark on how cute they were. He didn't see Bobby and Rufus exchange a look that seemed to be exasperated and proud at the same time. All he saw was Dean, and that was more than enough.

 **A/N:**


	17. Epilogue

**A/N:** Here is the epilogue! Short, sweet, and life-changing. Thank you so much for reading, and enjoy!

 **Epilogue**

 _Two Years Later_

Castiel strolled into the huge building, _Winchester Renovations_ gleaming from the old-style sign on the front. There were six cars in the huge garage part of the shop and three on the showroom floor. They were beautiful, and Castiel couldn't be prouder.

Dean was bent over the engine of a yellow '62 Corvette, grease staining one of the legs of his jeans. The Novak grinned. He'd recognize that ass anywhere.

Dean somehow heard the clean shuffle of Castiel's shoes on the garage floor, because he straightened up and turned, an expectant look on his face. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, jogging over. Castiel pulled him in for a kiss, and Dean held his dirty hands away from his trench coat. Nevertheless, he kissed back full force.

"I missed you," Castiel murmured.

Dean chuckled. "You saw me this morning."

"I did." Castiel kissed him again.

"Give me a second to wash up," he wiggled his gray-stained fingers. "Ash! Kevin! Get in here!" he called.

A man with a mullet and a small asian kid wandered over from other parts of the shop. "Yeah, boss?" the man with the mullet, Ash, said.

"Hold down the fort for me. I'm gonna go do inappropriate stuff to Cas in my office." He waggled his eyebrows, and Castiel turned red.

"Dude, you overshare," Kevin made a face.

"Go on, muchacho," Ash said. "We'll take it from here."

Dean nodded to his office and Castiel went in quickly, making himself comfortable on the couch while Dean ducked into the rather large restrooms. He came out less than ten minutes later with fresh clothes and wet hair, spotless.

"You look wonderful," Castiel smiled up at him. "Though I do enjoy the grease-monkey look as well."

"You can have both," Dean smirked and straddled the Novak, pushing his clean fingers through Castiel's dark hair. "Want to do sex stuff? The door locks."

Castiel chuckled. "I always want to, but I have something else in mind for today."

Dean pouted for a moment. "Sex stuff after, then?"

"Most definitely." He kissed Dean slowly for a minute, relishing in his soft lips. "Now come on, I packed some things for you and put them in your car."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "I should have never taught you how to pick locks."

Castiel laughed, and both men got to their feet. With minimal grouching from Dean, they were in the Impala and driving. "Jesus, you packed a lot," Dean glanced at the enormous suitcase in the back seat.

"Well," Castiel looked guilty. "We're going to need it. Head towards the airport."

Dean turned in his seat, staring at Castiel, which wasn't safe to do while driving. "Pardon me?"

Castiel smiled sheepishly. "I got us some off time, and I'm taking you somewhere you've always wanted to go."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "A beach?"

"Not just any beach," Castiel grinned. "It's beautiful. I'll explain on the plane."

It took surprisingly little coercing to get Dean onto the plane and seated comfortably in first class. He grumbled a bit about "air death traps," but took Castiel's hand anyway.

"It's high time we went on a little vacation," Castiel murmured as the plane took off. "You've been working your ass off in the shop, which is marvelous, by the way."

Dean perked up, forgetting about the plane. "It's amazing, I still don't know how to thank you," he said.

"Pay me in love," Castiel gave him a gummy smile, and Dean snorted.

"Done. Now tell me where we're going."

"It's a beach, you were correct," Castiel leaned back in his seat. "It's in East Hampton, Connecticut. Apart from Hawaii, it's one of the best in the country."

Dean sighed contently. "They say vacation sex is the best," he murmured.

"I intend to test that theory," He shot Dean a teasing look, and Dean raised an eyebrow back.

"Don't tease me too much, I'm not above getting fucked in an airplane restroom."

Castiel chuckled. "I'll keep my hands to myself," he said, sliding his fingers over to Dean's thigh. "Mostly."

Dean couldn't bring himself to fake annoyance. He covered Castiel's hand with his own and leaned back, successfully falling asleep for the duration of the flight.

Castiel looked over at Dean, sleep relaxing his features. No worry lines creased his face anymore. He even smiled a little bit, even on a plane. Castiel placed a kiss to his temple and turned on his music. One of his old songs began. " _Offer me that deathless death-_ "

Castiel immediately switched over to the playlist Dean made for him several months ago, titled "Better Music Than Yours". "Angel" by Aerosmith came on, and Castiel smiled.

" _You're my angel, come and save me tonight…_ "

o o o

"What's… on the schedule… for today?" Dean asked between gulped breaths, the sounds of slapping skin filling the air.

"Ngh, snorkeling," Castiel grunted, tightening his grip on Dean's hips. "'S gonna be fun."

"Yeah, fuck," Dean moaned. He _loved_ morning sex.

Castiel tried to think of something witty to say, but his brain was overcome with feeling. He shifted his own hips and Dean tensed up, moans skyrocketing in pitch. "Gonna-"

Castiel couldn't help it, he locked up and spilled into Dean. His hips jerked through it, and Dean came soon after.

They fell against the bed, Castiel's front pushed against Dean's back. "Can snorkeling wait a few hours?" Dean mumbled, eyes fluttering shut.

"Mhmm," Castiel hummed, not bothering to clean up.

Four hours later found them in a little hidden cove, climbing over the rocks to find shells. Dean held up a shell occasionally, but Castiel kept saying he could find bigger. Dean stuck his tongue out and turned again, and Castiel's pulse skyrocketed. This was it.

Dean felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Castiel hold a shell upright with both hands, eyebrows raised. "Dude, I found a way bigger shell like five minutes ago," he complained, giving the Novak a lovingly exasperated look.

Castiel didn't say anything. Instead, he sank to one knee in the shallow water and pulled the shell away, revealing a simple silver ring. Dean's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

"You're always better at witty one-liners than I am," Castiel murmured, smiling up at Dean, "so I'll keep it simple. Will you marry me? Oof!"

Dean tackled Castiel in a hug, careful at the last second not to jostle the arm with the ring in it. "Holy shit! Yes! Oh my god, yes!" Castiel had to shove the ring in Dean's face to get him to let go for one second to put it on. It fit perfectly.

Once the ring was secure, Dean tackled Castiel into shoulder-deep water, mouth dominating his with such a force that Castiel thought he might drown in it alone. Castiel had a hand tangled in his hair and an arm tight around his waist, hoisting Dean up easily in the water. Dean's legs wrapped around his waist and his arms around his neck.

"I love you," Dean mumbled into Castiel's lips, refusing to break away for even a second.

"You have no idea," Castiel whispered.

They stayed like that for a long time in that little cove, just drinking each other in. Castiel felt the desperate need to grip Dean tighter, as if he'd float away, but he said yes. He said _yes_. They had the rest of their lives to look forward to, and Castiel knew Dean wasn't going anywhere.


	18. Epilogue's Epilogue

**A/N:** So recently someone told me it would be cute if they had kids and oops my hand slipped. (P.S. The science I mention _is_ possible.)

 **Epilogue's Epilogue**

 _Five Years Later_

"Alright Sam, Gabby," Dean squatted down and pulled the two toddlers close. "You two be good for Aunt Charlie now."

"Where you going, Daddy?" Sam asked.

"Is Papa going too?" Gabby asked quickly after.

"We wanna go!"

Dean shook his head with a smile. The twins were too adorable. "You get to go on a water jungle gym with Aunt Charlie! Doesn't that sound fun?"

Castiel ruffled both girls' hair, already stiff with salt. "We'll all go pet the sharks together later today, alright?"

"Sharks!" both girls yelled.

"And if you ask _real_ nicely," the petite redhead fake whispered to the twins. "Aunt Charlie will load you up with sugar before returning you to your dads." Charlie smirked up at them.

Sam and Gabby cheered, and Castiel made a face. "Try to include a green vegetable some time soon," he asked before Dean pulled him away.

They two men walked along the beach quietly, hand-in-hand. Castiel glanced shyly at his husband. "Happy Anniversary," he murmured.

Dean grinned and bumped his hip. "Happy Anniversary,"

They walked along the familiar beach in East Hampton, and Castiel reflected on the last few years of his life, which were nothing short of Heaven.

After a little over a year of being happily married, something spectacular happened. Dean got absolutely hammered and told Castiel in a slurring voice that he loved him _so much_ that he wanted to have his babies. And when Castiel pointed out that Dean was, in fact, a man, Dean looked him straight in the eye and said, "We can adopt our babies though, right?"

The next morning, Castiel told Dean what he said and asked if that was something he really wanted.

"I mean, yeah," Dean had blushed beautifully. "You're my life. I want to raise kids with you."

After much talking and crying and sex, they decided they wanted kids. But the image of Castiel's child stuck in Dean's mind… A little boy or little girl with messy black hair and big blue eyes giggling up at Dean, grasping at his finger with a chubby baby fist.

If Castiel was honest with himself, he wanted their children to look like Dean. He imagined a little green-eyed child with golden-brown hair and dimples clutching his leg like a monkey because they didn't want him to go off to work.

Then Jody's friend Pamela suggested something that made both Dean and Castiel's hearts leap into their throats. "I'd be more than happy to be a surrogate," she raised an eyebrow at the two men. "I'm all about adventures, and I wouldn't say no to having something with incredibly attractive DNA popping out of me."

After some deliberation and much "ewww"ing from Dean, they decided that they'd mix their sperm so the biological father would be a surprise.

By the grace of god, they got both.

Pamela sat on the table with the sonogram machine humming in the background. Castiel clutched her right hand and Dean her left. "Congratulations," the doctor said. "You got a two-for-one. Twins."

And later, "Two girls. Better start buying pink."

And when they were born…

After the process in which Castiel most definitely passed out, they held two little bundles of life in their arms. One already had golden-brown hair stuck up on her head, green eyes blinking lazily. The other was bald as ever, but with the most striking blue eyes. Fraternal twins, one from Dean, one from Castiel.

Blue eyes was named Gabrielle Roberta Winchester-Novak, and green eyes was named Samantha Joanna Winchester-Novak. Both grown men Sam and Gabe cried like the babies named after them.

Castiel marveled at how much more he grew to love Dean as they, together, loved their children. He never once dreamed that he would have children, or even be able to care for children in his state of mind, but just looking at them erased any last shred of doubt from his mind. He _would_ be everything for them, do anything for them, and he saw Dean feel the same.

Castiel watched as Dean bought each of them Metallica onesies and sang them "Hey Jude" before bedtime and told them "I love you" over and over again. As they grew, Dean told them bedtime stories about the adventures of the angel Castiel and snuck broccoli into their mac and cheese and took a thousand pictures of them because they were so damn cute.

Every day, Castiel fell more and more in love with Dean until he thought he'd burst at the seams with joy.

Even then, on their fifth anniversary, walking along the beach and holding hands with the man that saved his life, it felt like the first time he'd seen Dean in his office, looking over his books with interest. People said that with parenthood, passion fades, but Castiel still felt his heart jump and his stomach flop when Dean smiled at him.

"Hey, Mr. Deep-In-Thought," Dean squeezed his hand. "Everything okay over there?"

"I love you," he responded automatically, smiling widely.

"I'd hope so," Dean chuckled. "And I love you."

The crowds around them dispersed until they were walking alone towards the little hidden cove that Castiel remembered so well.

"Ah, my favorite place," Castiel remarked as they sunk into the shoulder-high water.

"What a coincidence," Dean slid his arms around Castiel's waist. "It's mine too."

Castiel cupped Dean's jaw, stroking the beginnings of a beard on his cheek. The fine hair was soft. Castiel's thumb traced over Dean's lip, which parted automatically.

"Alone at last," he murmured before claiming Dean's lips, reveling in the sweetness. Though they didn't get much alone time, they spent as much as they could tangled in each other, even if it was during a lunch break in Dean's office. Their sex drive knew no bounds, and by the deep rumble from Dean's throat, Castiel knew that they'd spend this alone time wisely.

He hoisted Dean up into his arms, strong legs wrapping around his waist. Dean detached his lips and bit at Castiel's neck, blood stampeding to his interested length. "Think water will work?" Castiel gasped, squeezing Dean's ass through the swim trunks.

Dean grinned at him mischievously. "It won't have to." Castiel's brow furrowed as Dean grabbed his hand and guided it to his entrance, where… holy shit. Was that a plug?

"Fuck," Castiel groaned. "Have you had that in all day?"

"Since this morning's shower," Dean growled, rutting against Castiel. "I mean, vacation sex is the best sex."

Castiel made a sound low in his throat and pushed Dean away, only to shove at his swim trunks until Dean was bare. Dean yanked at his, and they tossed them on a rock, forgotten.

Technically they were still in public, but that gave Castiel a little thrill. They weren't likely to get caught, as no one really went down the beach this far, but there was a possibility.

Dean was back in Castiel's arms and the Novak was hard as diamonds, length prodding the small plug in Dean's ass with his unconscious thrusting. "Fuck, Cas, please," Dean groaned, his own member pressed against Castiel's stomach.

Castiel took a little time tracing his finger around the bit of plastic, loving the full-body shudders from Dean. The younger man thrust against his stomach in vain, trying to gain some friction against his own painful length.

"C'mon, I've been waiting all day," Dean whined quietly. "I need you in me _yesterday_."

"Jesus, Dean," Castiel nipped at his neck. He grasped the tiny bit of the plug that he could and yanked it out, replacing it with the head of his erection immediately.

Dean's fingers clawed into his back, trying to find purchase to grind down on him, but the strong hands on Dean's hips stopped him. "Cas," he could only groan.

Not daring to breathe, Castiel pushed into Dean slowly. He took a full minute to appreciate the slide of Dean's tightness around him, and Dean could only breathe heavily into his neck.

"Oh, Dean," Castiel murmured.

"Please, Cas."

Castiel pulled out, cool water rushing around his sensitive, exposed skin, and he pushed back in. Sex in the water was different, but Castiel loved it so far.

"Ngh, more," Dean demanded, pushing his heels into Castiel's back.

The buoyancy of the water made it easy to pull out of Dean and slam him down. He shifted Dean a little and did it again, striking his prostate like a pro.

The rhythm was hard and deep, just shy of what Dean needed. He moved his hips in time with Castiel's thrusting, fingers knotted tightly in his growing dark hair.

Maybe it was the cove, maybe it was the date, maybe it was just Dean in general, but Castiel was close embarrassingly quickly. With fumbling fingers, he reached between them and grasped Dean's length, pumping it hard and fast.

"Fuck, Cas!" Dean cried, burying his face in Castiel's neck. Castiel felt Dean spasm and it was too much. The force of pleasure crashed over him, nearly pushing him off his feet. He felt a warmth on his stomach and grinned.

They stood there a minute, waiting for their heartbeats to slow. "Never… a dull moment…" Castiel said between breaths.

"Keeping you… on your toes…" Dean chuckled.

Castiel felt himself softening, and on a whim, pushed the plug he'd been gripping back into Dean. The younger man's eyes widened. "Where else would we keep it?" Castiel purred into his ear, and Dean groaned.

"I'll go another round, don't tempt me," he murmured, but he looked sleepy and sated.

"How about this," Castiel countered, pulling on his swim trunks. "We take the rest of the two hours before the sharks and nap in the room. Then figure out how to get another round in tomorrow."

Dean paused from tugging his own trunks on and smiled. "You're so smart."

Of course, halfway through their nap time, two extra little pillows found their way into the king-sized bed. Gabby burrowed herself almost under Dean, clinging to his t-shirt with her thumb in her mouth. Sam lay across Castiel's chest, her little toddler-snores brushing across his collarbone.

Dean slept, dead to the world. He had an arm pillowed under Castiel's neck and a hand on Sam's back, trapping both little girls between their dads.

Castiel couldn't help but smile. This was his family. This was his life, and his life was perfect.


	19. Companion Piece!

**Companion Piece Alert!**

Hi guys! Another big thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the story, I love you all so much.

Since you loved _Take Me to Church_ , I thought you might like a few scenes from Dean's perspective! The new fic _Let Me Give You My Life_ is up now! This is a companion piece, not a standalone, so make sure you've read all of _Take Me to Church_ first.

Again, thank you for all the love and support! See you in the next story.


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